


Better be

by Assapanick



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Hogwarts House Sorting, Chamber of Secrets, Dark Harry Potter, M/M, Manipulation, Possessive Tom Riddle, Slytherin Harry Potter, The Sorting Hat, Tom Riddle's Diary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2019-07-24 22:35:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 61,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16184567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Assapanick/pseuds/Assapanick
Summary: Draco thinks it’s rubbish that people suspect Harry is the Heir of Slytherin, but that doesn’t mean he won’t use that to his advantage.Harry? He’s all alone now, unable to face his friends. Lucky for him, he’s found a Diary that he can confide in.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A week or so ago I thought, hey, I’ll write out a short idea just to have something completed. Over that week I realized I have no idea what I was thinking. 
> 
> I wanted to finish the whole thing before I posted, but I'm stuck in the middle so I'll be going back to the other story I'm working on I think.

_Potter,_ Draco thought exasperatedly, _they all think Potter is the Heir of Slytherin._

 

Alright, so not _everyone_ thought that, but the majority of the school sure did. Or, they at least looked at Potter as if he was dangerous. It was bad enough when Potter spoke to the snake at the Dueling Club, but when Finch-Fletchley had been petrified the suspicion and fear of Potter got worse. It was odd that Potter was near the scene for all of the attacks, but that was just Potter being in the wrong place, surely. Really, how could anyone believe that Potter would be the heir?

 

The fact that he was a parselmouth was unexpected, though. Unexpected and _unfair._ Why did Potter of all people get that rare ability? Potter was a _Gryffindor_. So how in the world was that possible? The gift was wasted on him, it would be far more appreciated by, say, Draco himself. If Draco had the ability, then he’d be able to help the real Slytherin Heir.

 

He wondered what he thought of all of this. The heir, that is. Was the heir just as annoyed by Potter’s undeserved gift? If only Draco knew who it was, but he still had no clue as to their identity. He’d been searching the library for any information he could find about the chamber and listening carefully to any talk of the heir in their common room.

 

He was in the common room now, doing just that, while flipping through a book about the founders. He’d gone through all the books that looked promising already, so he was just skimming through these pages while he tried to listen for any talk about the chamber or the heir.

 

“I’m not saying that Harry Potter is anything like a Slytherin, but wouldn’t the Sorting Hat have taken that ability into consideration?” An older Slytherin girl was arguing with some of her yearmates nearby. “I doubt Godric Gryffindor would want anyone with that ability in his house. Especially after his feud with Slytherin.”

 

“The Sorting Hat did take a while to sort Potter, didn’t it? I suppose it makes sense. A parselmouth obviously belongs in Slytherin, but with Potter’s personality the Hat must have been confused.” One of her friends replied, “It did seem odd at the time that the hat didn’t decide right away for him. Everyone knew he’d be in Gryffindor.”

 

He didn’t want to hear more talk about Potter, but the older girl’s discussion sparked an idea. Draco shut the book he had been looking through and returned to his dorm. He remembered seeing something in another of the books he had gone through already, while he had been hoping to find anything on the Chamber of Secrets. It hadn’t revealed anything new on that search, however, it had talked about the Sorting Hat and cases where it had been split between multiple houses for a student. The information hadn’t meant anything to him before, but _now,_ yes, maybe it was something.

 

Luckily, he hadn’t returned the book yet and he picked it up from where he had left it on his trunk. He quickly flipped through the pages to the section he needed.

 

_The Sorting Hat may consider a student fit for multiple houses, and in some cases will give the student being sorted the choice of placement. In most cases the student will fit in just fine with their chosen house. If they do not however, they, may call for another sorting at any time in their school career. If they believe they have changed enough for a re-sort, sometimes due to traumatic experiences, they may request this of the Headmaster and the Sorting Hat will be used once more._

 

_If student believes that another has been sorted wrong, they can call the sorting into question as well. A resort in this case, however, will only occur if the claim is backed by students of multiple houses. The Sorting Hat will, in this case, re-sort the student into the other house, if they had been considered for another. If they had not been considered for a different house initially, the Sorting Hat will look into their mind again to re-evaluate._

 

The Sorting Hat _did_ take its time with him so maybe he would be switched to another house. From what he’d seen of Potter’s study habits and performance in class, he was definitely not a Ravenclaw. Hufflepuff, maybe.

 

 _The Hufflepuffs would be_ terrified _, too, of Parselmouth Potter joining them._ Draco smirked to himself. _That would be entertaining enough._

 

Really, there was no way that Potter would be a Slytherin, even with the parseltongue ability, so that really only left Hufflepuff as a possibility. That was only _if_ he was even considered for another house. It would be interesting to see Potter removed from Gryffindor, but he realized that it was unlikely. Even if Draco very much doubted that Potter would be sorted into a different house, Potter would still be embarrassed in front of the entire school if his sorting as a Gryffindor was even called into question.

 

According to the book, he needed someone of another house to agree with him on Potter being sorted wrong since Potter himself was not asking for the re-sort. If he used Potter’s Parseltongue ability as a reason for believing he was miss-sorted, he was sure someone of another house would agree. It was likely to have already crossed some other student’s minds, like the students he’d overheard earlier. Ridiculous as it was that people thought Potter was the Heir of Slytherin, this would only benefit Draco right now.

 

_I’ll have a talk with some of Finch-Fletchley’s friends about this just in case. It wouldn’t do for me to be the only one to say something. If they agree in public, it may entice others to speak up as well._

 

Sure, Potter’s two friends were on his side, along with the Weasley twins, but he’d seen others in Gryffindor house wary of the golden boy. Oh, and wouldn’t that be as bad as it could get for Potter? Nevermind the other houses calling for a re-sort, what would he feel if his own house turned against him?

 

Satisfied with his plan so far, Draco headed out of the Slytherin dorms in search of the petrified Hufflepuff’s friends. If he was lucky, he’d be able to find them before dinner started.

 

-

  _T._ _M. Riddle_

 

Harry had never heard that name before, but it did seem familiar somehow. He didn’t think he heard that name in this year’s or last years sorting ceremonies, so maybe that was an older student. It was odd that they hadn’t written anything in the diary yet. All the pages were blank. Or maybe there was a spell in place hiding what was written, but he had no idea how to check if that was the case. Hermione would know, he’d bring it up with her.

 

Harry couldn’t help but wonder if it had been someone else to throw the diary away, and not the owner. Why would anyone try to flush their own diary away? Maybe this person was being bullied. Harry was very aware just how cruel kids could be. Dudley had always been quick to destroy anything of Harry’s that was even remotely nice. If this was taken from the rightful owner, Harry would find a way to get it back to them.

 

Just… maybe not directly. Afterall, everyone seemed to have turned against him at the moment. If he tried to return the diary to this Riddle person, Harry would most likely be blamed for taking it in the first place. With his luck, this Riddle would end up petrified, like Justin and he’d be the number one suspect. Harry groaned, this was getting out of hand.

 

 _For now,_ Harry thought as he shook off some of the water still clinging to the cover, _I’ll see what Ron and Hermione think of this._

 

It was time for dinner, so it’d be easy to find them as they were likely already in the Great Hall. Harry hoped that the stares died down a bit today. He was grateful for his friends’ support right now, he wasn’t sure what he’d do without them. The Hufflepuffs especially were openly distrustful of him at the moment. Some of them would turn and go the other way if they saw him in a corridor.

 

He really needed to find who this Heir of Slytherin was to get this all to stop. It was still such a disappointment to find that Malfoy not only was not the heir, but had no idea who it was either. They had no other leads at the moment as to who it could be. Harry hoped that the mystery of the diary would at least give him enough distraction from the rest of his problems, even for a little while.

 

Harry braced himself for the inevitable stares as he entered the Great Hall. Sure enough, he students nearest to the doors fell into hushed conversations upon seeing him and watched him warily. Looking away from them, he spotted where his friends were at the Gryffindor table and made his way over there, intent on showing them the diary. He made it only to the end of his house’s table when Draco Malfoy opened his annoying mouth.

 

“I, Draco Malfoy, would like to call upon the Sorting Hat. I believe someone has been sorted into wrong house.”

 

“What in the world is he doing?” Harry thought out loud as he claimed his seat next to Ron. Malfoy was standing up over at his own table. He caught Harry’s eye and smirked, only confusing him more.

 

“No idea, mate. I’ve never heard of anyone being questioned on their sorting.” Ron seemed just as confused.

 

“It _has_ happened before, it’s just very uncommon.” Hermione filled them in, “According to what I’ve read, normally a student asks for themselves to be re-sorted, and certainly not in public, but I don’t think this is the case here. I can’t see Malfoy wanting to be in any other house.”

 

At the head table Dumbledore rose and quieted the interested and confused chatter that started after Malfoy’s request.

 

“Might you tell us which student’s sorting are you calling into question, Mr. Malfoy?”

 

He turned to look at Harry again and with a sinking feeling Harry realized where this was going.

 

“Harry Potter, of course.” Malfoy said confidently. Ron choked next to Harry. “With recent events, I’m sure I’m not the only one to think he _doesn’t belong_ in Gryffindor.”

 

“Has he gone mad?” Ron said, only loud enough to those around them, “Why would he think anyone agrees? And what’s the point of that?”

 

“The point is, Ron, that if anyone does agree with him, anyone outside of Slytherin, that is, Harry can be resorted.” Hermione explained, just as Ernie Macmillian stood at the Hufflepuff table.

 

“I, too, think that Harry Potter does not belong in Gryffindor. Everyone knows he’s a _parselmouth._ How can he possibly belong to that house?” The Hufflepuff’s statement was met with sounds of agreement from the other students.

 

Harry, trying not to fall into a panic watched a few other students he didn’t know stand up in agreement. Raised voices calling him the Heir. The volume in the great hall rose as dozens of frightened and angry students supported Malfoy’s claim.

 

Hermione must have seen his nervousness, for she quickly tried to assure him as Dumbledore finally called for silence and the hall quieted.

 

“It’s alright. They may think that, but it doesn’t matter, Harry, it doesn’t.” She told him confidently, “It’s what the Sorting Hat thinks that matters. It might just stick with what it said without even looking into your mind again. And if it does, it’ll be just like first year, and it’ll say Gryffindor again and Malfoy will look like a fool for suggesting otherwise.”

 

Her optomistic words didn’t help like she thought and Harry paled.

 

 _But the Sorting Hat wanted Slytherin!_ Harry thought back to the last time he saw the hat in Dumbledore’s office. The hat hadn’t changed it’s mind since his sorting. Would he be able to beg it to remain in Gryffindor?

 

“Yeah! Then maybe we can call _his_ sorting into question and the hat will decide he doesn’t belong anywhere!” Ron piped in not sensing Harry’s nervousness.

 

_Why would they worry? It’s not like I told anyone what the hat said. I never thought I’d have to worry about it again._

 

Harry’s attention was drawn back to the head table where McGonagall was questioning Dumbledore. He had the Sorting Hat in front of him on the table. He must have missed it’s appearance while he was trying to not panic.

 

“Albus, you can’t think Potter will be sorted differently this time, do you? Why go along with this nonsense?”

 

“It matters not. If students from multiple houses want a re-sort, it will be done. If Mr. Potter has the same qualities now as when he did at his first sorting, then I’m sure there will be no change.” Dumbledore then looked over to Harry with a kind smile, “Mr. Potter, if you would join us for a moment.”

 

Harry pushed back from the table and stood shakily. Ron and Hermione both whispered words of encouragement to him, but he hardly heard. He wasn’t even able to step away from the table before the Sorting Hat spoke up. All eyes in the hall turned to it as it did.

 

“It has been years since someone questioned my decision. After centuries of sorting students, I am confident of my judgments.” The hat sounded amused. It was probably pleased to be taken out of the Headmaster’s office for more than just the one time this year.

 

“It is not unreasonable, no. Not at all.  Harry Potter _could_ have gone into another house. ” Harry saw varying levels of shock on the professors faces, dread building in his chest. _No! It was going to decide without his input!_ “I do not need to look into the boy’s head again, and as I told the boy the last time he was in your office, I still agree with what I first thought.”

 

The damn hat paused, it without a doubt was enjoying this moment. Harry heard sounds of relief from his two friends at the hat’s words. Even Dumbledore smiled faintly at that. _They have no idea._ Harry was the only one that knew the hat wasn’t finished, and therefore was unsurprised when it continued a moment later, even though he dreaded its next words.

 

“He can find greatness with _Slytherin_.”

 

For once the hat hadn’t shouted out the house name. It might have been his imagination, but the hat almost sounded smug. As if it was glad to finally get it’s way in Harry’s sorting. Harry fought back tears as he looked down to his school robes to find the familiar red and gold had already been replaced with green and silver.

 

Across the hall Draco Malfoy stood gobsmacked. That had _not_ gone as expected.

 

-

 

The atmosphere in Dumbledore’s office was tense. Harry had been rushed out of the great hall by McGonagall after the Sorting hat had made its decision. He’d gone along most willingly, too. Speaking parseltongue in front of the duelling club was nothing compared to the looks of fear on his fellow students faces’ now. He didn’t hesitate to get away from the proclamations from some that this was proof of him being the Heir.

 

Even Ron and Hermione had looked at him differently. Ron had stared at him like he’d never seen him before and Hermione looked almost betrayed. His best friends hadn’t been comfortable with the parseltongue, but they realized he’d had no control over having that ability in the first place. You had a lot more control over what house you were in, though it didn’t feel like it to him.

 

“I’m afraid the your sorting will be permanent this time, Mr. Potter.” The Headmaster said apologetically, “We’ll have your schedule updated to reflect your new house’s and sent to you in the morning. Professor Snape will lead you to your common room.”

 

Harry said nothing, he didn’t know what to say. He wanted to beg to be put back in Gryffindor, but McGonagall had already inquired on his behalf when they arrived in the Headmaster’s office. The Sorting Hat refused to sort him again, claiming it was sure of its choice.

 

“I know I asked you this the last time we spoke, but I’ll ask again. Is there anything you would like to tell me, Harry?” Dumbledore didn’t even mask his concern.

 

Harry couldn’t even bring himself to look at him, staring down at his own knees instead. He couldn’t tell him before of his worries while he was a Gryffindor. So how could he ever now? No, he’d keep it to himself. He hadn’t heard the voice in a while anyway, it wasn’t worth mentioning.

 

“No, sir.”

 

Dumbledore sighed, it was clearly not the answer he had been hoping for. “You may go. Expect your new schedule at breakfast, my boy.”

 

-

 

Snape walked quickly to the Slytherin common room. He hadn’t said a word to Harry, and Harry wondered what he might have been thinking. Snape had looked as shocked as anybody, maybe _more_ than anybody, back in the Great Hall.

 

In the headmaster’s office, though, he hadn’t said anything. He didn’t think the man was happy to have Harry in his house, but McGonagall had been the only one to protest. When Harry had looked his way briefly he found the potions master to be staring at him curiously. Harry had been quick to look away again.

 

It appeared that his re-sorting into Slytherin had convinced the remaining students that hadn’t believed he was the Heir of Slytherin that he was. Slytherins included. As Snape led him in to their common room Harry saw uneasiness and suspicion on some of their faces, in some cases awe. Malfoy, partially hidden behind Crabbe, stared wide-eyed at his entrance. It looked like the entirety of Slytherin house had retired to their common room so as to not miss this moment.

 

“Unfortunately the Sorting Hat’s decision is final. Harry Potter is now part of Slytherin House.” Snape called out to his students, his tone conveying just how unfortunate he felt this was, “Despite his previous affiliation, he is now one of ours. I’m sure you will all be…” Snape glanced at him, “Welcoming.”

 

The professor started moving again calling out for Harry to follow. “Come, Potter, your belongings have already been moved.” Harry stumbled after him as he led him up a set of stairs, his pace quick.

 

-

 

It had been decided that Harry was to have his own room. Snape didn’t give a reason why, just showed him to the room and left. Harry thought it had to do with the fact that he had not gotten along with the other Slytherins in the past. He didn’t mind it though. He wasn’t sure how he would have been able to sleep in the same room as Malfoy anyway.

 

The colors were different of course, but the bed was the same design. Being that it was the only one in the room he didn’t need to see his trunk at the end of it to know it was his. It did make it real. Since Malfoy started this whole debacle, Harry had been almost numb. Shocked into disbelief.

 

Now, staring at his trunk at the end of a four poster bed decked in Slytherin colors, it was real. Harry Potter was no longer a Gryffindor. He was a Slytherin.

 

Harry dropped his bag next to his trunk, it landed with a dull thud and tipped onto one side. It wasn’t that late yet, but he wanted to curl up on the bed, pull the covers over his head and just pretend the last couple hours had never happened.

 

Before he could take another step nearer to the bed, something made him pause. Without really understanding why, he felt compelled to reach into his bag. He did, and pulled out the diary he found earlier in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.

 

With all that had happened, he’d forgotten about it. His earlier thoughts about finding the student it belonged to vanished as he realized just how old the diary looked. Amazingly, it didn’t look to be damaged from the water at all. It was in great condition, even if it’s pages were slightly yellowed. Still, with the age of the diary it was weird to find nothing written within it’s pages.

 

Harry never kept a diary before, the Dursleys didn’t even want to buy him notebooks for school, let alone a diary for him to write in. If he ever did happen across a scrap piece of paper, he remembered drawing on them with the broken crayons he had hidden in his cupboard. It never even occurred to him to want to write down anything about his life.

 

It was supposed to be therapeutic, wasn’t it? Like talking to a friend. Right now, Harry needed that. With Ron and Hermione lost to him for now, maybe forever, it wouldn’t hurt to write down his thoughts would it?

 

So he sat on his new bed, diary propped on his crossed legs ahead of him and quill and ink ready at hand. He thought he should be a bit more reluctant to write in someone else’s diary, but he felt that the diary _wanted_ to be written in _._

 

How did one start writing? Should he start with ‘ _dear diary’?_ Or was that silly? He decided he’d just write down his main thoughts at the moment. The things no one seemed to understand right now.

 

So he wrote, _I don’t want to be a Slytherin_. Harry paused, thinking of what to write next and the words faded into the page. It looked like the ink had just soaked into the page. He flipped to the next to see if it had run through, but nothing was there.

 

Huh, so Harry could write what he wanted and no one would be able to read it. That was nice, he wouldn’t have to worry about anyone reading his thoughts even if they found this. He flipped back to the first page.

 

To his surprise, there were words waiting for him. Words that he did not write.

 

_Whyever not?_

 

The words faded into the page after a moment or two, just like his own did. Is this what diaries were like in the magical world? Was it normal for them to talk back to their owners? He could see the appeal if this were true. It would be like having someone to keep your secrets. Someone that wouldn’t tell anybody else.

 

He went to write back, but must have delayed too long for the diary wrote first.

 

_Hello? Are you still there?_

 

 _Sorry, I wasn’t aware that diaries could write back in the magical world. I was just surprised._ He wrote hastily, not wanting to offend the diary. Could a diary be offended?

 

_They don’t normally. I am a special case. My name is Tom Riddle, may I ask who you are and how you found me?_

 

_I am Harry Potter. I found your diary in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. Someone tried to flush it down a toilet. Why is this diary different?_

 

_It is nice to meet you, Harry. This diary is different because it contains my memories._

 

_So you are a real person, not just a diary? Why didn’t you just write down your memories instead? I don’t know what it would take to do what you did, but I don’t imagine it was easy._

 

_An experiment, you could say. Yes, I am real, I even went to Hogwarts. Back to what you first said, why don’t you want to be a Slytherin?_

 

Harry paused uncertain if he should trust the diary with more.

 

_If you are worried about telling me anything, know that it will stay between the two of us. Even if I were to fall into another’s hands, Harry, I will not share what you tell me._

 

It couldn’t hurt to tell the diary- tell _Tom_ some things. It wasn’t like he had anyone else to talk to right now. He hoped that Ron and Hermione would still be his friends, but right now he just didn’t know. Ron hated the Slytherin’s, that had been part of the reason Harry had fought so hard against that sorting in the first place. Hermione was more likely to accept this, but friendships with students in other houses were difficult.

 

_Did you ever hear of someone being re-sorted while you were in Hogwarts?_

 

_No, I’ve read that such was possible, but I never saw that happen. Is that what happened to you? What house were you in before?_

 

_Gryffindor._

 

_That is quite the change, those houses tend to be opposites. Is that why you are upset? Did you hope for Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw instead?_

 

_No, I didn’t want to change houses at all. Someone said I didn’t belong in Gryffindor and everyone agreed because-_

 

Should he tell Tom about his parseltongue ability? Would he be biased like everyone else was? Well, everyone else already knew, what was one more?

 

Before Tom could question why he cut off, he continued. _I’m a parselmouth._

 

Now Tom was the one to pause. Harry tried not to be disappointed, even Ron had been uncomfortable with it and he had been his friend for over a year.

 

_Harry, that’s wonderful! Parseltongue is an incredibly rare talent. I hope you know that is nothing to be ashamed of._

 

Wonderful? Even Hermione, who wasn’t as uncomfortable about the ability as Ron, didn’t exactly encourage him to be proud of it.

 

_You’re the first person to say that. Like this isn’t something I should hide._

 

_I shouldn’t have been. You may not be happy right now with your new house, but I know you will be. I was a Slytherin in school, and I would have been glad to have you in the house._

 

_Thank you, Tom. I feel better after talking with you. I’m going to go to sleep now, I want to be up early to get my new schedule at breakfast. Good night._

 

_Sleep well, Harry. Will you write to me again tomorrow?_

 

_Yes, if you don’t mind._

 

_I look forward to it._

 

Harry smiled. Tom was incredibly easy to talk to and it seemed like he enjoyed talking to Harry! Granted, Tom was in a book and didn’t have anyone else to talk to. He couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to get rid of Tom. Maybe the last person who had the diary didn’t realize that Tom could write back.

 

He’d think about it later. Harry placed the diary on the side table, along with the quill and ink. His glasses followed once he had changed into his pajamas. It wasn’t late, but he was exhausted nonetheless.

 

There was a soft green light coming in through the one window in the room that led to the lake. It was unexpectedly comforting as he drifted off to sleep.

 

_-_

 

Tom couldn’t believe his good fortune! Of all people to find his diary, it was Harry Potter. The wizard he wanted most to talk to.

 

He had already been interested in learning all he could about the boy after learning about him from Ginevra Weasley’s fangirl ramblings. The boy-who-lived who defeated his older self.  How could he not be interested in learning more about the boy.

 

Maybe figuring out exactly how that happened. Find out just what power the boy had, for he must have some. It was difficult enough to believe that someone could defeat Lord Voldemort at all, let alone a babe. So, yes, He’d been intrigued.

 

Now? Now he was _captivated_. The girl hadn’t told him everything she could, like he had expected her to. While she had told him that the school suspected Harry of being the Heir of Slytherin, she hadn’t mentioned Harry’s fantastic ability.

 

A parselmouth! He hadn’t been aware of any other wizards possessing the ability outside of the Slytherin line. From what Harry has said, it sounded like his talent was common knowledge. Ginevra was infatuated with him and loved to find out whatever she could about her crush. So why hadn’t the girl mentioned that? Surely she knew.

 

She had been writing less and less to him in the weeks leading up to her tossing him away. He assumed that she had been only suspicious of him, and she _was_ suspicious. But, maybe, she had been writing less because her interest in Harry had faded with the reveal of his parseltongue skill.

 

It was her loss.

 

And it could be Tom’s gain. Yes, this was an opportunity that Tom would not lose.

 

The girl mentioned that Harry had two close friends. One was the girl’s brother, someone who was as anti-Slytherin as they come. The other was a mudblood girl. Neither of them believed that Harry was the Heir, but that was before Harry’s re-sorting.

 

Harry probably didn’t realize it, but his surprise at being told not to be ashamed of his gift earlier hinted that the two must not have been entirely welcoming of the gift either. He could encourage Harry’s distrust of the two. A year’s worth of friendship wasn’t really all that long, he could easily break that and win Harry over instead.

 

This had changed his plans.

 

He would have been able to lure the boy down to Salazar’s chamber to rescue his friends sister with ease, if he was as Gryffindor as the girl claimed. Had planned on draining the girl, then killing the boy after he’d figured out why his older self had been defeated. Their similarities may have fascinated him, but Potter was a Gryffindor and of no use to him alive.

 

But now Harry _wasn’t_ a Gryffindor. Their similarities grew, and perhaps Tom could help aid in directing the boy in making the right choices now.

 

It was fortuitous that the boy was only twelve. He was still young enough to mold. He might have been in Gryffindor before, but now that he was in Slytherin he would be forced to see things from a different view. Tom’s point of view.

 

If not, he could always use the boy’s soul as the sacrifice needed to restore his body.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for such a positive response to that first chapter. You're all amazing. It got me motivated to finish off this piece. 
> 
> Unfortunately, this is almost all that I have written so far, so the next chapter might not be as quick. But I'm still pretty motivated to get more written.

Since he had gone to bed so early the night before, Harry woke much earlier than normal the following morning.

 

He thought about going right back to sleep, but decided that the earlier he went to breakfast, the less people he was likely to see. He couldn’t skip it outright since he’d be getting his new schedule there. 

 

Also, he wouldn’t want to annoy Snape by making the man come and find him. Not now that he was his head of house and had more power over him. He hadn’t forgotten that Snape wanted him expelled at the beginning of the year.

 

He reluctantly donned his Slytherin school robes and gathered his quill, ink, and the diary back into his bag. 

 

He felt like talking with Tom again. He’d only talked with him briefly last night, but he was immediately drawn to him. Tom felt familiar to him even though they’d only just met. It was odd to him, too, that he was alright talking with Tom even after he admitted he was a Slytherin in school. That shouldn’t matter anymore, he supposed, since he was one, too.

 

If he started to talk to him now, he felt like he would be distracted for some time. So he’d wait and write to him at breakfast, as long as no one was around. 

 

The last person who had the diary threw it out, yes, but he didn’t want whoever that was knowing he had it in case they changed their minds. Hermione would’ve told him it was wrong, and he might of agreed to appease her, but whoever it was clearly didn’t take care of the diary and didn’t deserve it back. Most of Harry’s belongings before Hogwarts were discarded items that others had no longer wanted. So the thought of keeping the diary for his own didn’t really bother him.

 

When he walked into the Great Hall breakfast was just starting. He was right in going this early, as the hall was nearly empty. Not even all of the professors were present yet. Unfortunately, that included Snape, the only reason he even showed his face this early. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to wait long for him to show up. 

 

He took a seat at his new table, in the center, away from any other groups of students. He felt their eyes on him, but he paid them no mind and ate. It reminded him of school before Hogwarts, except this time the other kids weren’t staying away from him for fear of his cousin Dudley. This time they feared him.

 

Harry kept an eye on the Gryffindor table, to see if Ron or Hermione walked in. Ron slept late, so that was unlikely, especially with this being the weekend. Hermione, though, got up earlier, but he hoped not this early. He wasn’t ready to talk to them.

 

Nervously watching the students slowly trickle in after he had finished eating, he thought about leaving despite Snape not having arrived with his new schedule. He poured another glass of pumpkin juice and decided he’d leave after he finished it, schedule or not.

 

Harry was almost done with the glass when Snape finally arrived in the hall and headed immediately over to Harry. He never thought he’d be relieved to see the man, but he really wanted to get out of here and away from all the distrustful stares. 

 

The professor passed him the promised schedule and he promptly placed it into his bag with a quiet, “Thank you, sir.”

 

Harry stood to leave, but Snape stopped him. Looking reluctant to do so.

 

“Potter. I know this situation is-  _ unpleasant... _ for all parties, but I am now your Head of House. Should you need to, you may come to me with concerns.” Snape drawled in a less than pleased tone. Without giving Harry the chance to form a reply, he left for the head table. 

 

Merlin, that probably pained him to say that. 

 

Eager to talk with Tom again, Harry headed for the sure to be empty library.

 

-

 

_ Good morning, Tom. I hope it’s not too early to write to you. _

 

_ Good morning, Harry. Do not worry, as I am now, I do not sleep. You may write to me whenever you wish. _

 

_ Oh, I didn’t think about that. Does that bother you? _

 

_ Only when I am left alone for long periods of time. I do get bored in here. I hope that you don’t mind sparing some time for me, Harry. _

 

_ No, I like talking to you already.  _

 

He wasn’t sure if he should admit to Tom that he was going to hide the diary from others because he wanted to keep Tom. But, he might as well do it now before he really got attached. Because, if Tom wanted to go back to the last person, or the person before that (since he wasn’t sure if the last even wrote in the diary at all) then Harry would comply with that wish. 

 

_ I don’t much want to, but do you want me to bring you back to your last-  _ Last what? Owner? He had the feeling that Tom wouldn’t like that. Even though he was in a diary, Tom was a person, right? So he probably wouldn’t like the idea of someone owning him. Harry settled with - _ writer? _

 

_ That is kind of you Harry, you are very considerate, but I much prefer your company to theirs already. As you can imagine, I don’t have much control over who keeps this diary. _

_ In fact, I had wondered how to bring this up myself. I would very much like to stay with you, but I fear the last might take me back regardless of my desire. I did spend long months with them, unfortunately, so they could easily recognize my diary if they see you with it.  _

 

Excited, Harry quickly scratched a reply,  _ I was worried about that, too! I was given my own room in the Slytherin dorms, that’s where I wrote you from last night. Right now I’m in the library. It’s a weekend and it’s early so I don’t think many will come this way. _

 

He felt so much better knowing that Tom wanted to stay with him for now. He wouldn’t feel so bad keeping the diary for himself now. Had the last person been unkind to Tom? He hoped not, and it was hard to see why anyone would, but he was glad regardless since Tom prefered him so far.

 

_ I appreciate the caution you are taking. There is a spell I know you can use to disguise this diary, if you would like me to teach you. Even if you do not have the time to talk to me outside your dorm, I would feel at ease to know they would not recognize me. _

 

Perfect! Harry might write to Tom more while he was alone, but he wouldn’t feel nervous carrying him around with him that way. 

 

_ That’s a relief. I don’t have anyone else I can talk to right now because of my situation. Well, I should probably talk to my friends, but I’m afraid of what they might say now that I’m a Slytherin. _

 

_ You think they might not want to associate with you any longer because they are Gryffindors?  _

 

_ Ron might not? His whole family is in Gryffindor. I met him on the train to Hogwarts in my first year. He told me he’d rather go home than be sorted into Slytherin. Hermione is a Muggleborn, so she hasn’t grown up not wanting to be in Slytherin. Still, the Slytherins aren’t kind to her because of her blood so I don’t know how she’ll react.  _

 

_ I see. So not much has changed since my time. I was not truly welcome in Slytherin until I proved myself due to my Half-Blood status. _

 

_ You’re a half-blood, too? My dad was a Pure-blood and my Mum was a muggleborn. I was raised by my muggle Aunt and Uncle though, because they died.  _ Best to leave out the  _ how  _ they died for now. Tom wasn’t aware of his status as the boy-who-lived and it was refreshing to have someone not see him as that for once.

 

_ For me it was my Mother who was the Pureblood, she died giving birth to me. My father, a muggle, left her before that so I was raised in a muggle orphanage. I’ve never had someone have so much in common with me, Harry. I find this quite comforting, don’t you? _

 

Tom was an orphan, too? Both Ron and Hermione had such loving families. They didn’t quite understand what life outside of Hogwarts was like for Harry. It was comforting to have someone understand.

 

Harry would have been happy with either family. Ron had a big family and they were all magical. He knew Ron felt overshadowed by his older brothers, but Harry would have been glad to just have brothers.

 

Hermione, like him, had living Muggle relatives. But, unlike him, hers loved her. They were proud of her, they didn’t look at her as if she were something shameful. Sometimes it was hard for Harry to not be jealous of his friends.

 

_ It is. I was so excited to be brought into the Wizarding World! My relatives knew, but they hid that from me and tried to keep me from it.  _

 

_ They sound horrible, Harry. How did you end up in Hogwarts if your guardians did not approve? _

 

Grinning, Harry excitedly told Tom about his Hogwarts letters and how they found him no matter where the Dursley’s dragged him. Wrapped up in sharing one of his best memories, Harry only noticed others had started to trickle into the library when a chair being pulled back dragged on the floor loudly. 

 

If he wasn’t before, he was absolutely sure he was going to hold onto this diary. With the spell provided by Tom, the diary now appeared to be a dark olive color and brand-new. The pages a crisp white and the embossed T. M. Riddle on the outside wiped away.

 

-

 

Ron and Hermione finally cornered him after lunch. 

 

They hadn’t approached him while he sat at the Slytherin table, though he knew they had stared at him through most of the meal. They weren’t the only ones to do so either, the shock of his re-sorting still too fresh. Other than the few students that were up for the beginning of breakfast, this was the first time the other houses were seeing him after the sorting.

 

Predictably, the minute he rose to leave the hall, the two of them vacated the Gryffindor table and headed his way. To avoid a scene he allowed them to lead him away from the Great Hall to an empty classroom. 

 

Even though the two Gryffindors were the ones to drag him there for a conversation, upon arrival they seemed at a loss of what to say.

 

“Well?” Harry started, unnerved by their uncertain glances between him and each other and just agitated in general, “What did you want to say to me?”

 

“ _ We  _ shouldn’t be the ones that have to say anything!” Ron found his voice, “You’re the one who should.” 

 

“What? Why should I… You brought me here, Ron..”

 

“I mean about you should explain about why you’re a Slytherin!”

 

“You know why, you were there!” Harry snapped, defensive, “Malfoy’s the one who made this happen, I didn’t want to change houses. You  _ know  _ that I didn’t.”

 

“I thought I knew.” Ron said, voice low. 

 

“I haven’t changed, Ron, I’m still the same even if I’m in Slytherin.”

 

“Maybe that’s the problem!”

 

“What?” Harry didn’t know what to say to that, as he didn’t know what he meant by that. 

 

“The hat said it’s first choice for you was Slytherin.” Hermione said like she was still trying to understand that, “But you never  _ acted  _ like a Slytherin. You were a proper Gryffindor all this time, Harry. Or, at least you appeared to be.”

 

Oh.

 

“How much of that was actually real?”

 

“All of it! I swear I’m still the same, it wasn’t a lie, Hermione.” 

 

“It’s like we didn’t even know you!” Ron seethed, clearly not believing a word, “And now everyone’s been asking me how I didn’t know my best friend was a snake! How am I handling knowing that my  _ best friend  _ is probably the Heir of Slytherin.”

 

“Embarrassed by me now?” Harry spat. “Afraid people will think you’re  _ dark _ for associating with me?”

 

“Harry, no, that’s not-” Hermione tried to explain.

 

“No, I get it. I’ll just go, then, shall I? Wouldn’t want you to be caught talking with the  _ heir.” _

 

He stormed out the door. Hermione called after him, but didn’t follow. Most likely to calm Ron down, but that suited him fine. He didn’t want to talk to them anymore right now. 

 

They thought he’d faked being a Gryffindor. That was just absurd, they’d known him for over a year. How could they think he’d pretended to be someone else for that long?

 

-

 

The only place he could get away from everyone was, regrettably, his new Slytherin dorm. Curled up on his bed, he filled Tom in on his friends reactions.

 

_ I should probably apologize, shouldn’t I? _

 

_ You could, but I don’t know why you think you should.  _

 

_ I didn’t tell them the hat wanted me for Slytherin. I lied to them. _

 

_ That is probably what they think, yes. But did you really? Did they ever ask if the hat had other ideas for you? Did you ever say to them that it only thought Gryffindor? _

 

_ No, I didn’t think about it after.  _ In fact, he’d tried very hard to not think about it after. Would it be lying by omission, though?  _ Should  _ he have told them? 

 

_ See? They have no right to think you tricked them. It isn’t as rare as many think to be considered for multiple houses. One of them might have even been considered for another as well. Do you think they have lied to you if that’s the case? _

 

Ron, probably not. If Harry remembered right, the hat hadn’t taken long in deciding for his house. Hermione, he couldn’t remember. He hadn’t paid as much attention to her sorting as they hadn’t been friends yet. He could see the hat considering her for Ravenclaw, though, and it was doubtful no one else thought the same.

 

_ I guess not. _

 

_ I’m sure they will realize this in time, too. Let them realize that on their own, you have done nothing wrong, Harry. _

 

_ I think you’re right, Tom.  _

 

_ Of course I am right.  _ Harry let out a shocked laugh at that.  _ Now, you mentioned that you were getting a new schedule this morning. If you need help with any of your assignments, I was top in my classes, and am qualified to assist. _

 

Er, he hadn’t planned on working on any of his assignments. Well, might as well. He had the time and nothing much else to do. 

 

_ Sure, that would be great. _

 

-

 

Draco watched as his eagle owl flew off, letter clutched in its talons. 

 

He hadn’t wanted to tell his parents exactly what happened. He’d learned though, that it was better for them to hear events from him first, instead of through someone else. Even if the rest of the school didn’t see it as a failure, his parents would know that getting Harry Potter sorted into Slytherin was not what he had intended. 

 

It was what happened though, and he knew his parents would hear about this one way or another.

 

His, what he realized now as poorly thought through, plan to embarrass Potter had gone so wrong. Oddly, not everyone saw it that way. Students had approached him,  _ thankful  _ for revealing Potter’s supposed true self. Merlin, the fools somehow felt safer with their former golden boy in Slytherin. 

 

Macmillan had sought him out after, sounding bloody hopeful of all things, ‘ _ Do you think this’ll be enough to convince the Headmaster that Potter is the heir? They’ll have to remove him from the school, right?’ _

 

It was obviously not going to happen, no matter what these idiots thought or hoped. The Headmaster wouldn’t kick his precious Potter out of the school without definite proof.  

 

It was all still coincidence. So what if Potter happened to be at the scene of every attack? Or if he spoke Parseltongue, something the Slytherin line was known for? Or if he was in Slytherin?

 

Okay, he could admit to himself that he understood  _ why  _ people thought it was Potter. That was a lot against him. But it wasn’t proof. Potter just couldn’t be the heir. 

 

But,  _ if _ , somehow Potter  _ was  _ the heir…

 

What difference would that make to Draco? If, Potter was the heir and following Salazar Slytherin’s ideas of only the worthy attending Hogwarts, then as a Pureblood, Draco was safe.

 

Unless he was upset with Draco for being outed as a Slytherin.

 

Crazy, really. He didn’t know why he was even thinking about it. Potter was not the Heir of Slytherin!

 

He sighed, and made his way out of the owlery, his letter and owl now well out of sight. 

 

Potter was now in his house, however. It wouldn’t be unthinkable to befriend him, for the sake of house unity, of course. Certainly not because he was worried.

 

-

 

After his falling out with Ron and Hermione he was surprisingly okay. 

 

Malfoy had approached him at one point, speaking about a truce. Harry had wanted to tell him to shove it, as the whole situation was his fault to begin with. 

 

Draco had been reasonable, however. They were in the same house, as unfortunate as that was. Plus, Harry didn’t really need more enemies. They wouldn’t be friends, Harry had said, but they wouldn’t cause trouble for each other anymore.

 

It didn’t appear that way to the rest of the houses. When Draco and his friends sat next to Harry during meals, Harry knew what the others thought. Ron’s glaring face alone gave it away. 

 

He wasn’t happy with what his former friends thought, but like Tom said, he’d done nothing wrong. He was fine. For a while he still held out hope that they’d apologize for doubting him.

 

He knew the reason he wasn’t crumbling under stress was because he had Tom to rely on. Tom was wonderful. He listened to Harry without judgement and told Harry stories of his time at Hogwarts. The only problem with Tom was that he was paper and ink, not flesh and blood. That wasn’t Tom’s fault though, and even if Harry wished they could talk face to face, he still enjoyed talking with his supportive friend.

 

A supportive friend that was incredibly smart, too. Without any distractions, and with Tom’s help Harry was able to finish all of his work early and didn’t have to rush to finish. 

 

His new friend hadn’t been lying when he said he was top in his classes, it appeared. Tom knew all the answers to the questions Harry asked. He explained everything so simply, too, that Harry felt a little more confident in his classes.

 

Magic was amazing, Harry had always thought so. But with Tom’s explanations it was so much more interesting and understandable. When Tom taught him, the material made sense. With his help, Harry’s grades improved over the next weeks.

 

During that time, he didn’t hide away from Ron or Hermione, waiting to see what they’d do next. They hadn’t approached him, yet, however, and he knew if he didn’t have Tom to turn to, he would have apologized himself just to get them back. 

 

At this point he wasn’t sure if they would apologize, or speak to him at all. He thought they’d calm down and understand his side, but Ron looked to be more upset as the days passed. 

 

Part of that was undeniably his truce with Malfoy. Harry’s performance in class, too, really bugged his old friend. Hermione gave off the impression that she was even more motivated in her work to do better now that Harry was. He wasn’t sure what Hermione thought, but she hadn’t attempted to talk to him again either.

 

Ron must’ve thought that his academic success was another of Harry’s so called lies. His reaction didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would. He wasn’t going to go back to being average to appease him, he was proud of his improvement, even if he was the only one.

 

It seemed he might be, because even his professors were unsure what to make of his progress. Anytime Harry was handed back an assignment with a higher grade than before they looked at him with suspicion. He’d seen those looks before, back in muggle school when everyone believed he was a no good delinquent. Thought there was no way that whatever he turned in was his work if it was correct.

 

He brought this up with Tom, asking him why they didn’t accuse him of cheating when they all so clearly thought so. His muggle teachers never hesitated to inform the Dursley’s on his supposed cheating.

 

_ They still expect you to behave as you did as a Gryffindor. They never saw you as you truly are. Just how intelligent you could be. _

 

Harry had blushed at the praise, thankful for once that Tom couldn’t see his face. He wasn’t smart, he was only doing so well because of Tom, and he told him as much.

 

_ You  _ _ are _ _ talented, Harry. You only needed someone to guide you, like I am. Now, I know you are still having difficulty with potions, I have thought of a way I could help with that. May I show you? _

 

Potions was the one subject that he still struggled with. Snape had stopped deducting absurd amounts of points from Harry for small or non-existent mistakes since it would hurt Slytherin now, but other than that nothing changed. The git still judged him harshly and Harry wanted to prove to the man that he could do better. 

 

Not to please him, of course, cause Harry’s success never did. No, but to tick him off more. So if Tom had an idea to help him improve, then he was all for it.

 

_ Of course. _

 

The diary heated up and the pages flipped hurriedly to the center of the book. Before Harry could even attempt to ask Tom what was going on, because the diary had most certainly never moved on its own before, he was pulled into the diary.

 

Or he thought he was. He was face down on the cold stone floor in the dungeons of Hogwarts near the potions classroom. Not really sure how that happened, Harry picked himself up off the ground and turned to head back to the Slytherin common room. Only, there was someone standing in the hall, blocking his way.

 

It was an older Slytherin student, tall and handsome with dark hair like Harry’s, but he’d never seen him before. He was smiling mischievously at Harry, though Harry couldn’t imagine why. He hadn’t made enemies with any of the older Slytherins, but he hadn’t made any friends either, so he had no idea why one of them would be looking at him like that.

 

Feeling nervous under that gaze, Harry ducked his head and made to move around the older student with a muttered, “Excuse me.”

 

“Why Harry, I thought you would be happy to see me after all this time, and not so eager to get out of my presence.” The strange boy mocked hurt.

 

“Err.. do I know you?”

 

The older boy smiled wider at that, “Oh,  _ Harry,  _ we have been talking for weeks.”

 

He did seem familiar…

 

_ Wait-  _ it clicked.

 

“... _ Tom _ ?”

 

The Slytherin nodded and opened his arms slightly. Harry beamed and hugged the older student’s midsection eagerly. “It is you! How is this possible?”

 

“I had planned on showing you a memory of mine while I was brewing the potion you needed help with. This, however, will work better. You are temporarily in the diary with me. This way I can show you how it is done in person and even if you mess up there are no consequences as none of this is real and I can control this world. I can stop any potential potion accidents with a thought.”

 

Harry glanced  up at Tom from where his head had reached the older boy’s chest, Merlin, was Tom tall. “I don’t know if I can concentrate on a potion right now. I mean- Tom, you’re _real!”_

 

“Of course I am real, Harry.” The older boy said with a smile.

 

Harry pushed against Tom’s chest and separated from the older student, slightly embarrassed by his reaction. “Oh, you know what I mean!” He laughed, overjoyed that his friend was more than just words on a page for once. “I wish you’d done this sooner. I mean, this is great, you’re here!”

 

He knew Tom was a person, but this made it so much more, well, real! Tom, his only friend, was a solid presence now! He wanted to hug him again, confirm his solid presence, but held back. Barely.

 

“Come on, as pleasant as this is, I didn’t bring you here for hugs.” Tom said, mirth evident in his tone as Harry felt his cheeks heat, “Now, what potion are you working on this week? I know you would love to show Professor Snape up by brewing it perfectly.”

 

-

 

Once Harry knew he could see Tom inside the diary, he fell through it’s pages as often as he could get away with. 

 

Whenever it wasn’t possible, he still wrote in the diary. At mealtimes he wrote, the diary’s modified exterior safely preventing any previous owners from recognizing it. He ate his meals silently, scribbling away. Unless someone called out to him first, he didn’t participate in any of the conversations at his table. In class, too, when he could, he’d write to Tom, or sometimes doodle little drawings for him. 

 

He found himself trying to match Tom’s writing style, too. It just looked so nice. Much nicer than Harry’s own messy script. Tom must have noticed, but to Harry’s relief, never mentioned it.

 

But those free periods and weekends, he was quick to ask Tom to see him again.

 

In the halls of Tom’s Hogwarts they explored. Tom shared secret passageways that Harry hadn’t found and Harry pointed out anything he noticed that had changed over the years. The older Slytherin could even play memories that he had for them.

 

Tom, Harry realized, was incredibly proud of all of his achievements. As he should be, too. Tom was incredible, but all of the memories Tom shared were of him perfecting a spell first in class or brewing a perfect potion. Tom never shared any memories of friends and Harry wanted to know who they were. 

 

Harry brought it up one day while they were seated at Tom’s favorite table in the Memory-Hogwarts library. In the real Hogwarts, Harry had taken to sitting in the same spot. Not that he told Tom that.

 

“Can you show me a memory of your friends?”

 

“I am not sure I would call any of the people I associated with in Hogwarts friends, Harry.”

 

“How can that be? You’ve shown me all these things that you’ve done. You’re so nice, smart, talented, handsome-”

 

“Oh, why thank you, love, I had hoped you found me attractive.”

 

“I- I, well… Oh, stop that, you know what I mean. How can you not have anyone you see as a friend?”

 

“I do have one friend.” Tom grinned at him.

 

“Yeah? Who is it?” 

 

Harry knew he couldn’t have been serious! Tom had to have had friends.

 

“Harry Potter.”

 

Merlin, that felt amazing. He knew they were friends, of course they were after how often they talked. But hearing Tom say that, and look at him so softly. Was his heart beating faster? Harry’s cheeks had to be bright pink with happiness, but he couldn’t be even slightly embarrassed.

 

“Thanks, Tom. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.” Harry had to say back, “But, honestly, did you really not see any of your schoolmates as friends?”

 

The older Slytherin stared at him, humor gone. Harry wondered if he finally annoyed his friend, the subject of friends must’ve been a sore spot. He hadn’t meant to upset his friend but Tom seemed to come to a decision before he could think to apologize.

 

“I think it would be best if I showed you.” Tom said as he stood, taking Harry by the hand to lead him to wherever he had in mind.

 

Harry squeezed his hand and followed silently. Harry was curious as to what Tom could possibly show him, but could tell Tom wouldn’t say anymore until he wanted to. His curiosity only grew when he realized the steps they were taking were leading to the Great Hall.

 

When they arrived, the Great Hall was empty, just like every other part of the memory-castle. Tom didn’t stop at the entrance or head to the Slytherin table like he thought he might, but pulled him almost all the way to the head table. He veered towards their house’s table then, but not quite all the way to it, so they were standing just off to the side of the center of the room between the house tables and head table. 

 

“Do you remember me telling you the other Slytherins did not accept me until I proved myself?”

 

“Y-Yes, I do.” Harry confirmed, slightly unnerved by Tom’s unfamiliar aloof demeanor.

 

“That did not accurately describe how unwelcome I was.”

 

Harry opened his mouth to ask for clarification, but the memory was beginning and he turned to watch the Great Hall fill with students, eager to see what Tom was showing.

 

It was the first day of a school term, Harry noticed immediately, the small stool was at the front near where they were standing. Next to it was a witch Harry had seen in a few of Tom’s other memories, but couldn’t remember her name. She held the Sorting Hat in one hand and a piece of parchment in the other. 

 

By the doors of the Great Hall there were a few first years waiting to be sorted, but not many. Either it was an incredibly small class, or the memory started mid-sort.

 

“Riddle, Tom.” The witch’s voice called out and Harry sucked in a sharp breath in shock.

 

_ This was Tom’s sorting! _

 

Memory-Tom broke away from the crowd and strode confidently to the waiting witch. Of course he was confident, Harry thought amused, he couldn’t imagine Tom not being so. Harry had been a bundle of nerves at his own ceremony. 

 

The closer Memory-Tom got, however, Harry could see that he  _ was  _ nervous. He walked more stiff than normal and his eyes-  _ Wait was an eleven year old Tom Riddle taller than Harry was currently at twelve? _

 

Not important, Harry reminded himself. 

 

The memory took a seat and the Sorting Hat barely touched his dark hair when the Hat cried out,  **_SLYTHERIN!_ **

 

Harry envied Tom of that. The Hat was completely certain of his house, there was no thinking on it at all. Harry, out of habit, clapped for the memory of his friend. Then he noticed he was the only one clapping.

 

Well, not exactly the only one. At the head table a couple of the Professors were clapping politely, but not a single student in silver and green cheered for their new member. Memory-Tom clenched his jaw, stood and made his way over to his new table. Harry’s Tom jolted Harry out of staring by pulling him to follow after him. 

 

At the far end of the table where the rest of the new first year Slytherins were seated, Memory-Tom took a seat as the others moved away.

 

They weren’t making room, he noticed with sadness. They were trying to put distance between Tom and them. The witch at the front called out another student’s name, but Harry had eyes only for the Tom ahead of him.

 

The young Tom gathered himself and tried to introduce himself to the closest of his new house mates. A boy to his left with sandy blonde hair and immaculate school robes, noticeably different from Tom’s unfortunately second-hand ones.

“Hello, my name is Tom Riddle, I am-”

 

“You can stop there. I don’t care to talk to you,  _ Riddle.”  _ The boy Tom had tried to talk to snapped back, saying Tom’s surname like it was disgusting.

 

“Excuse me, but why not. We are in the same house, are we not?” Little Tom replied, voice still strong, but obviously thrown by the hostility. 

 

“Riddle isn’t a wizarding name.” Another student chimed in, looking to be offended by Tom’s presence at the table. Harry squeezed his Tom’s hand, not liking this at all.

 

The first year girl on Memory-Tom’s other side scoffed. “It’s bad enough that they let  _ Mudbloods  _ into our school at all, and now we have to deal with one in our own  _ house?” _

 

“The Sorting Hat must be losing its touch. Mudbloods like you,  _ Riddle, _ are not welcome in Slytherin house. You _ don’t belong.”  _ Harry flinched, he’d just recently heard similar words directed at him during his re-sort.  _ ‘You don’t belong in Gryffindor.’ _

 

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave and go back to your Muggles and stop bringing shame on your  _ betters-” _

 

Harry jumped when the scene suddenly ended with a wave of his-Tom’s hand. Tom finally let go of his hand and took a few steps forward. He stood next to the bench facing right where his memory self had just sat. Harry could see he had his fists clenched, and he turned, eyes hard, to face Harry again.

 

“I do not forgive easily, Harry. Even once I showed them that I was  _ great,  _ that I was  _ better _ than every last one of them and they begged for my attention, I never forgot.” Tom’s voice was hard, colder than Harry had ever heard, “I had been so happy to leave the muggle world where I did not belong and finally be with others just like me. And told me to leave, that I never should have shown my face here. That I was lesser than them.”

 

This was so much worse than Harry ever could have imagined. Harry would have been  _ devastated  _ if he had been given the same treatment. Tom, he was so strong, Harry realized, to have built himself up after all he must’ve faced. He didn’t want to think what the other students were like inside their own dorms, if they were like this out in the open.

 

“So, no. I did not have any friends. Not in school, and neither did I make friends with any other person who wrote in my diary.” He’d calmed down slightly, his voice more like normal again.

“You, Harry, are my first and only friend.”

 

Harry’s eyes widened, from what he saw, he knew it to be true, but it was shocking all the same. Harry was Tom’s first friend. His  _ only friend _ .

 

Ron had been Harry’s first friend, what felt like forever ago, and that had meant so much to Harry. But Ron had turned his back on him. Didn’t want to even look at Harry some days. Harry would never be like Ron in that way. He’d never let Tom go, never turn Tom away.

 

Tom meant too much to him.

 

Harry stepped up to his best friend and with both hands, laced his fingers with Tom’s. He stared up into Tom’s dark eyes willing the older boy to realize how much he already meant to Harry after the short time knowing him. He gently squeezed his hands.

 

“They were fools, Tom. You’re the most important person to me.” Harry spoke softly, but surely, “And, with every passing day you grow even more important to me.”

 

For a few heartbeats Tom remained silent, staring back.

 

And then, Tom squeezed his hands back and smiled.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg this chapter brought the number of words up to 11,111. That amuses me so much and it shouldn't.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went back to check when some things happened in CoS, and I’ve screwed up the timeline a bit. Over Christmas they sneak into the Slytherin common room and Hermione ends up as a cat-person, until early February. Ron and Harry found the diary before that, which I took to mean January. And in this I made it early January that Harry finds it alone and gets re-sorted. Hermione would have still been in the hospital wing as a cat. Whoops. So let’s pretend that it was a much easier fix that only took a few days and that she would have been out of the hospital wing when Harry got re-sorted. OTL
> 
> Also, I can't say it enough, but thank you all for being so supportive. It's a bit overwhelming how positively this has been received, honestly!

Tom Riddle could get anyone to trust him.

 

Well, anyone that did not know him from that miserable orphanage, which unfortunately included Dumbledore.

 

Tom was great at charming people to do as he wanted, he had long since perfected that skill. He knew that with time and effort he could charm Harry Potter as well.

 

But… he had not expected it to work so well.

 

Or so fast.

 

Harry had near immediately seemed to trust him. Tom had thought, _Fool,_ for placing his trust just like that in an invisible stranger. No matter how it benefited Tom.

 

But without realizing it, Tom had been slowly placing his own trust in Harry. When he became aware of that fact, he was taken aback.

 

The more he thought on it, though, he thought it really should not have stunned him. For so many reasons.

 

For one thing, Harry was the first person to not be immediately suspicious of him.

 

The Matrons at the Orphanage had always thought him strange. He’d heard them whisper behind his back about how he had always been _off._

 

‘ _Such a strange boy. Never cried, you know, as a babe? Always has an odd look in his eye, too, like he knows something. Just abnormal. Can’t be really surprised, really, his mother died in childbirth with him, so shoulda known from then something was wrong with him.’_

 

The other orphans, too, never trusted him.

 

It was hard to admit to himself, but it hurt at first. The first time he was aware of his accidental magic kicking in (not that he knew at the time that was what it was) he had been scared like the other children.

 

But that had been all it took. The other orphans were wary around him after that. Never wanted to be alone in a room with him. Would not share a table at mealtimes with him if it could be avoided. By the time he mastered control of his _powers_ as a boy, he only encouraged their distrust and their fear. He no longer wanted their trust, their worthless _friendship._ He had understood that he was better and he would not forgive them.

 

Hogwarts, as he had revealed to Harry, was not as welcoming as he had hoped.

 

The Slytherins did not want him, and the other houses were wary of him as well for being in Slytherin. Add in Dumbledore, who sure did not encourage the other Professors to trust him, and that meant Tom had not been met without suspicion ever.

 

Until Harry.

 

Tom had not planned on sharing that much with Harry. The memory itself, yes. He wanted for Harry to understand that he did not make friends so easily. Hoped that by sharing that Harry would value Tom seeing Harry as a friend even more.

 

But Tom had lost his cool. He had shown too much of what he was really like.

 

He thought in that moment after he had shown just how angry, how bitter he was that he might have made a mistake. What if he had lost Harry’s trust with this? He did not realize until that moment just how much he wanted Harry to still trust him. And not because of how useful the boy could be. Merlin, he craved the boy’s friendship, but he thought he had ruined it.

 

Tom’s mind whirled in that moment, trying to come up with a way to undo the damage. His first thought was to _obliviate_ Harry, but he had no idea if that would work inside the diary or not. Before Tom came to a decision on what to do, Harry had reacted. And his reaction surprised Tom.

 

Harry accepted him.

 

Harry accepted the way Tom was, because he understood. He understood because they were so similar. And that had been why Tom had been so interested in the boy in the first place, wasn’t it?

 

The similarities only continued to grow.

 

First, it was minor things like both being Half-Bloods and being orphans, something that was regretfully common in both of their times as a result of war.

 

Then, he found out they were both raised by Muggles. Harry had yet to really talk about his unfortunate blood-relatives, but from what little he said, it did not sound like a happy upbringing. So they even had that in common.

 

The orphanage was certainly not a very nurturing place to grow up in. And neither of them should have been raised in the Muggle world. They were Half-Bloods, so they had magical parentage. Even if those parents were dead, someone should have taken them in. He had quickly noticed how closely tied Wizarding families were with one another.

 

Thinking on that kind of upbringing, it really was no longer a shock to think that Harry would belong in Slytherin, too. No, the most shocking thing that they shared was parseltongue.

 

It was something that still baffled Tom. As far as he knew, he was the only living descendant of Salazar Slytherin. He had spent a great amount of time searching for that information, to see if he had any wizarding relatives that could take him away from the orphanage. He was sure that there were not any, so how could Harry have the ability that was from Slytherin’s line?

 

He had yet to figure that out, but that did not bother him. Nor did the fact that Harry possessed the ability. It made him all the more fascinating.

 

So really, it should not have startled Tom to realize that he had started to trust Harry, with all that in mind.

 

What worried Tom now was losing that trust.

 

Originally that had not been such a big problem to him. Afterall, once he had the boy firmly on his side, and regained his body, Harry’s trust would not be as important. If Harry lost faith in him after that, scared by Tom’s darkness, well, he could force the boy to comply with his wishes.

 

But now the unthinkable happened, and he could not even bring himself to regret it. He had Harry’s trust and he did not want to lose it. He had never worried so much over anything like this. But, Harry meant so much more than anyone ever had to him.

 

With Harry, too, there was something that could ruin the whole thing. A fact that Tom had hid from Harry so far that could destroy Harry’s faith in him. His Harry was smart, though, so he knew he would have to tell him, and soon, before Harry figured it out on his own and felt even worse.

 

He knew that.

 

It did not make it any easier, however. He did not know how he would be able to tell Harry that he was Lord Voldemort.

 

-

 

January was almost over, and that meant it had been nearly a month since his re-sorting. The shock of Harry Potter being a Slytherin had died down somewhat. With that, talk of the Heir had also dwindled. It helped that there hadn’t been another attack since Justin.

 

That wasn’t to say that people had stopped thinking it was Harry. No, it was clear that opinion had only solidified in their minds the longer he was in Slytherin and seemingly getting along with the rest of the house.

 

So, most of the other houses steered clear of him, but they didn’t say much to him about it or even whisper to each other around him. It was like everyone just accepted the fact that Harry Potter was most likely the Heir of Slytherin and that was that. They must’ve thought he’d stopped because he wouldn’t get away with it anymore now that he was in Slytherin or some nonsense.

 

Harry couldn’t imagine why the Heir had stopped their attacks, especially if everyone already blamed Harry and Harry himself had implied to his own house that it was him. Harry was glad they stopped of course, but confused nonetheless.

 

They’d looked so hard into figuring out who the Heir was, the three of them. Knowing Hermione, she was probably determined as ever to find the heir. He’d seen her still pouring through books in the library. He was still curious as to who had done all of the attacks. With everyone suspecting him, he should want to find out the actual Heir more than anyone, but he didn’t.

 

This was just another lesson he’d already learned back in the muggle world. He was unable to change any of his neighbor’s, classmate’s, or teacher’s opinions of him. He’d tried for so long. He didn’t like the Dursley’s spreading lies about him, he wasn’t bad. He tried to be nice to everyone and help out when needed, but he was only ever met with suspicion. They’d all made up their minds about him. It wasn’t worth his time to try and change that, he knew it was near impossible.

 

So he’d leave it to Hermione. If anyone could figure it out, it’d be her.

 

He had other things to worry about. Tom had seemed pretty shaken up by the memory he shared with Harry.

 

Well maybe not shaken up, but not himself. Like he thought Harry would turn away from him.

 

Tom had trusted Harry with that memory of his sorting. It was time Harry shared one of his own secrets, right? Tom wouldn’t think any different of him when he told him he’d survived the killing curse.

 

He wouldn’t think any less of him if he told him how he was raised in a cupboard. He’d never really been able to tell Ron and Hermione exactly what his life was like before Hogwarts. He’d told them the Dursleys were the worst of Muggles, but he wasn’t sure how much they really understood. Ron had seen the bars on his window before school had started, so he might get it a little better than Hermione. At the same time, Ron might’ve thought it was just a weird muggle thing.

 

He wanted to tell Tom, too, about his odd fame as the boy-who-lived. It was nice having Tom not know anything about that for a while. Everyone in the wizarding world knew Harry before he could even introduce himself. They all expected him to act a certain way, too.

 

Some of that had changed recently, with the whole Heir of Slytherin affair. Now they didn’t know what to expect, but everyone still knew him.

 

His fame for being the boy-who-lived was annoying, and he wished he wasn’t known for that, but his past was a big part of him, though, and he wanted to share that with Tom.

 

-

 

“Potter, I’ve been hoping to speak with you.”

 

Harry had just entered the common room when Marcus Flint called out to him. He avoided talking with the rest of his house and they usually gave him space. So in the few times someone did try to start a conversation with Harry, it drew attention. Sure enough, as Harry glanced around him, this time was no exception.

 

“Er, yeah?” Harry paused as the older Slytherin approached, “What about?”

 

“Quidditch. It pained me to admit it when you were a Gryffindor, but you’re a great Seeker. I want you to be on the team.”

 

Oh. Harry should have seen this coming. Why else would the Slytherin Quidditch Captain want to talk to him.

 

“You’ve already got a full team.”

 

“But you’re better.” He said seriously.

 

Harry wanted to say that didn’t mean much when the other seeker bought his way onto the team with new brooms, but he reminded himself that he was _trying_ to not make enemies in his house.

 

“I’m not as interested in Quidditch anymore. I’m busier now that I’m trying to do better in my subjects.” Honestly, he just didn’t think he would be comfortable playing Quidditch for another team. He didn’t think Flint would appreciate that answer though.

 

“I’m sure you could make time.” He quickly dismissed his protest, “Plus it would help your standing in Slytherin. It’s obvious you are uncomfortable around the rest of our house, if you were on the team you’d have our protection.”

 

He gestured to two of the other Slytherin team players, beaters if Harry remembered right. They nodded at him as if in agreement.

 

“Oh.. uhm.” He hadn’t thought that the Slytherins might’ve thought he was _scared_ of them and that’s why he was avoiding them. Harry chanced a glance around the common room. Did they all think he was afraid of them?

 

He spotted Malfoy seated at a table with Crabbe and Goyle. They had obviously been listening in, but Malfoy turned away when Harry looked over.

 

That was another reason to not join the team. Not because he cared if Malfoy’s feelings were hurt about being possibly being replaced on the team, but because he didn’t want to deal with that. They had been civil with each other since the truce, and he didn’t want to mess that up.

 

Flint noticed his gaze, however.

 

“If you’re worried about Malfoy, don’t. He won’t be able to retaliate, we’ll make sure of it.”

 

“Partially.” Harry conceded, mulling over an idea to get him from forcing him onto the team, ”But I am more concerned about my work. I’ve also been invested in a _side project_ that has taken up my time, that was unfortunately interrupted.”

 

Flint’s eyes widened at that. Harry heard a few students gasp around him, and someone near Malfoy cursed under their breath.

 

Harry meant the no-longer-a-mystery diary, really.

 

Not that they knew that. He had planned on figuring out who it belonged to and giving it back with Ron and Hermione's help, but never got to show them. It didn’t matter anymore, Tom was his friend and staying with him. And, truthfully, Harry was busy. Tom took classes very seriously and any time they weren’t working on Harry’s school work, Harry spent it with Tom anyway.

 

So, while Harry meant that, he knew what it actually sounded like to those listening. They’d think it would have to do with the Chamber of Secrets. It might be stupid to fuel their suspicions, but he was sure that they wouldn’t spread it outside the house. And if they did, he hadn’t admitted to anything, he only suggested.

 

Flint obviously hadn’t been expecting that and hadn’t responded.

 

“Though I guess I’d be fine with being a reserve seeker if that’s ever needed.” Harry said, then continued to his dorm.

 

He glanced over at Malfoy once more as he passed him. Harry couldn’t hold back a smile as he noticed how pale the other boy looked.

 

He didn’t really want to admit it to himself, but he kind of liked their reactions for once. Maybe it was because he made the choice himself this time, instead of another person insinuating it was him and having to defend himself.

 

Whatever the reason, it felt nice. He felt more in control.

 

-

 

“I like that the inside of your diary is Hogwarts. I think I would make mine the same if I was to do this, too.” Harry said one day as they were sat in the Diary’s version of the Slytherin Common room. Of all the places in the castle, this appeared to be Tom’s favorite. Most times he joined Tom in the diary, it was to find him here, as long as they weren’t working on anything school related.

 

“Truthfully, I can change it to anyplace I have been before. I just prefer Hogwarts over any other place.”

 

“I can understand that.” Harry murmured softly, “I haven’t been to many places, and most of the others haven’t been pleasant.”

 

Really, other than Hogwarts and Diagon Alley all the other places that he had been were Muggle areas. Which, wasn’t the problem exactly. The problem was that he had gone to all those places with the Dursleys. Even then, those areas were few as they left him in the house as much as they could instead of bringing him with them, or with the neighbor, Mrs Figg.

 

“Why is that?” Tom asked softly.

 

“You know I was raised by muggles and that they tried to keep me from this world?”

 

“Yes, you did not say much else of them, however.”

 

“They, er, well they weren’t too happy to be stuck with me…” Harry trailed off unsure how to start.

 

He wanted to tell Tom. He had planned on telling Tom about his life. So why was it so hard to find the words right now? Frustrated, Harry stood and paced as he tried to find the words.

 

“I- I know you talked to someone else before I found you, but I don’t know how much they told you about… er, major events that have happened. Well, there was a war going on that ended when I was a baby.” He stopped in front of Tom, glancing at his fascinated expression, “It’s weird, but everyone thinks I’m the reason the war ended.”

 

“Why is that?”

 

“Well, Lord Voldemort, ah, he was the one leading the war, well, he came after my parents. He killed them, but he died instead when he tried to kill me.” Harry bent down a little and pushed his fringe to show his scar, “Dumbledore says that’s where the killing curse rebounded.”

 

Tom leaned forward and reached out as if to touch his scar, but stopped himself. He didn’t lean back, though.

 

“Why did he go after your parents?”

 

“I don’t know. I actually don’t know much about the whole thing at all. Everyone else seems to know more than me. I told you the Dursley’s didn’t tell me I was a wizard, right? Well, that included not telling me the truth about my parents. I didn’t know how they died until Hagrid came to get me and all of a sudden I was famous.” He frowned, remembering the crowd in the Leaky Cauldron that first day, “Everyone knew my name and they wanted to shake my hand.”

 

“So not even you know how you… defeated that wizard.”

 

“No, but Dumbledore thinks it was love.”

 

“That sounds like him.” Tom muttered, annoyed, and flopped back into his seat with a sigh.

 

“Well, that was why everyone was so shocked at my sorting. Apparently Voldemort was in Slytherin, so it was expected that I’d be in Gryffindor. It was one of the reasons I didn’t want to be in this house at first. I didn’t want to have anything in common with the wizard that killed my parents, you know?”

 

Tom looked uncomfortable at that, so Harry continued on with the other thing he wanted to share.

 

“So, uh, that’s why I had to live with my mum’s sister’s family, the Dursleys. Like I said they’re muggles and they don’t much like me… They, uh...”

 

“Harry, do not force yourself to talk about them if you do not want to. You are sharing this with me because of that memory I shared with you, am I right? I will listen to whatever you want to share, but do not feel like you must.”

 

“Yeah, I mean, that’s part of why. But I wanted to tell you about it anyway, it’s just hard to talk about. It’d be so much easier to just show you.” He mused, thinking about how Tom was able to share memories with him.

 

“That is possible.” Tom said, “I did not mention it earlier, because I did not think you wanted to. You seemed happy to tell me whatever stories you had before.”

 

Tom reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out a diary identical to the one Harry had found in the real world. Well, identical before Harry had spelled his to hide it from others.

 

“Why do you have a diary inside a diary?”

 

“I do not use it as a diary. It is how I write to you when you are outside of these pages. It is not necessary for me to do, because I could just think back replies to you as well. It just helps me feel more connected to the outside world.” He explained, passing the small black book to Harry, “It will be useful in this case, because it is, in a way, the heart of the real diary. You should be able to use it to share a memory or just change the environment around us.”

 

The first thing harry noticed about the diary Tom handed him was that it was warm. He hadn’t expected that. The world inside the diary did not seem to have hot or cold, so the warmth coming from it was a shock. It also seemed to vibrate softly off and on, almost like a heartbeat.

 

He didn’t know what to do with it. “Um..?”

 

Tom understood his unasked question.

 

“Just hold on to it and try and picture clearly what you want to show me.”

 

Harry nodded and clutched the diary close to his chest. He shut his eyes and concentrated.

 

“Ah, well done, Harry.” He heard Tom praise.

 

Harry opened his eyes to see the Dursley’s house in front of them. He couldn’t think of a specific memory that would explain everything, so he’d only thought of the place to show Tom.

 

Tom had said that Harry didn’t need to share anything, but now that Harry was sharing, Tom looked plenty interested. He wasted no time and headed right for the front door. Harry followed after a moment, still thinking on what to say.

 

Tom had immediately begun looking around the house, muttering almost inaudibly to himself as he did so. Harry couldn’t make out what he was saying, but didn’t really care to find out. Tom looked at photos on the wall and on the mantle in the living room. Harry left him to it, grateful that he didn’t have to start talking right away.

 

Tom had said he had never tried to do this with anyone else before. So this was probably the first time since he created this diary that he saw a place that was new. He still didn’t know how long ago it was that Tom had been in the diary, but it appeared to be many years with the way Tom had looked at the telly. Tom said he grew up in a muggle orphanage, so it couldn’t be that muggle technology itself confused him, but how it changed, Harry thought.

 

Harry would have to share his other places with him, even if they weren’t that great. Anything new for Tom was surely better than nothing new.

 

Tom moved out of sight for the kitchen and Harry heard cabinets and drawers opening soon after. Harry sat down on the couch to wait for him to finish his inspection. He’d join Tom whenever he made it to the stairs. Harry would have to explain about the cat flap on his door and the bars on the window.

 

It was odd being able to just sit on the couch in this living room. Aunt Petunia was always so quick to get him set on a chore. Or Uncle Vernon would send him to his room, out of sight. Harry usually wouldn’t have wanted to be in the living room anyway, as that was where Dudley spent so much time in front of the telly, along with his father.

 

The sounds from the kitchen stopped and Harry heard Tom move elsewhere, the hallway most likely, and heard another door open. No sounds came after that for a few minutes. Harry wondered what had changed about a bathroom enough to interest Tom for so long.

 

When Tom’s voice rang out, it was in a too-calm tone, “Harry.”

 

He pushed himself off the couch and turned into the hallway. Really, a bathroom had a toilet and a sink, what was-

 

Oh, Tom hadn’t gone for the bathroom door. He’d gone for the cupboard. Harry’s cupboard. Tom was more thorough in his search than he thought he’d be. He didn’t think the older would have even spent more than a brief glance at the little door.

 

Tom had turned to look at him, one hand still on the door, gripping it hard.

 

“How long?”

 

“Until I got my Hogwarts letter. They thought someone was spying on us when it was addressed to _The Cupboard Under the Stairs._ ” Harry said in a calmer voice than he felt.

 

“Your letter was addressed…” Tom started, but trailed off clearly shocked.

 

During their conversations Harry had come to realize Tom was good with words. He was always quick with replies and never stuttered or used words like ‘er’ or ‘um’ like Harry did. So for Tom to not find words right now meant he must be more shocked than Harry thought.

 

Harry couldn’t really understand why. He knew that living in a cupboard wasn’t normal, figured that out long ago, thanks. But it wasn’t _that_ bad. It was cramped, yes, and dark, but it was still his own little space. It had been comforting once, too. Uncle Vernon could reach in and grab him, but he couldn’t _fit_ in the cupboard, so Harry had still felt a little safer in there than out in the open.

 

“Your letter was addressed to _a cupboard_ and no one from Hogwarts came to check in?” Tom had gathered himself enough to talk it appeared, but his voice wasn’t normal. He was mad, but Harry could tell it wasn’t with him.

 

“Oh,er... no. The Dursley’s moved me to the spare bedroom after, so it was fine. And since they ripped up the letter, Hogwarts sent hundreds more until Hagrid came and found me like I told you before.”

 

“They had a spare bedroom the entire time?”

 

“It was Dudley’s second bedroom, it had all of his broken toys. They also used it for when Aunt Marge came to visit.” Harry grimacing at the thought of his Uncle’s sister. “I can show you that, it’s upstairs.”

 

“No, that isn’t what is important. I- _Harry,_ they should have sent someone to check in on you after that first letter.”

 

“Well, Hagrid did.”

 

“That was not fast enough for them to be concerned about where the letter was addressed to, but how many-” Tom cut off again as if realizing something.

 

“Harry. You do know that they were wrong to raise you in such a place right?” Tom finally let go of the cupboard door and fully turned to face Harry, “Even in the orphanage, I had a room and a bed.”

 

“Yeah, I mean, I know this isn’t normal, but it’s a little better now. I get to leave for Hogwarts most of the year.” Harry wasn’t sure why he was defending his situation.

 

“You should not have to go back to this place at all.” Tom sighed, “I can not understand why you do.”

 

“It’s not like I want to, I just don’t have anywhere else to go. I have no other living relatives. I got to stay with Ron’s family for a little while this summer, but they already have so many children. Not that it matters now since Ron doesn’t want to talk to me anymore. The only other thing I could think of was to stay at Hogwarts, but Dumbledore said that wasn’t possible.”

 

“Because of the attacks.” Tom sounded almost regretful.

 

“No, I asked him at the end of last year.” Wondering when he told Tom about the attacks. It must have been the last person that wrote to Tom that told him.

 

“I asked the same thing once. The headmaster at the time told me it might have been possible if a student had not just recently died.”

 

“A student died? At Hogwarts? How did-” Harry was alarmed.

 

“Yes, but the point is, Harry, that is not true for right now, is it? There may have been attacks, but no one has died, have they?”

 

“Well, no.” Harry conceded, but more interested right now in what had happened in Tom’s time, “But, Tom, what-”

 

“And that does not even matter, because you asked the year before. It is like someone wants you to stay at the Dursleys. No, that has to be it. Someone wants to keep you there.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Someone writes and send the Hogwarts acceptance letters, Harry. Normally it is the deputy headmaster or headmistress, but it could be the headmaster, too. Whoever did knew what kind of situation you were in, but they chose _not to help you.”_ Tom was speaking fast now, “Even if they somehow missed the address of the first letter, the fact that you were in need of multiple letters should have been a reason for them to check in.”

 

“Hagrid-” Harry started, feeling struck at the idea of someone thinking he deserved to stay with the Dursleys.

 

“Yes, Hagrid, that is another point. I know you are fond of him, but you have to see that he was not the ideal person for that kind of situation. Even in a normal situation he should not have been the one to deliver a Hogwarts letter. Professors are the ones to deliver letters when needed, not the groundskeeper, and mostly to introduce muggleborns into the magical world.”

 

Tom looked back to the cupboard, still talking, though it seemed to be to himself mostly, like he was figuring out a puzzle.

 

“You had wizarding parents and everyone knew who you were. Blood relatives or not, if these Muggles did not want you as they clearly do not, there would have been numerous wizarding families willing to take you in with your fame. You were left with them anyway and your letter clearly showed that you were being abused-”

 

“No, that’s not-” Harry choked out.

 

“That is exactly what it is, Harry.” Tom said softly, approaching him. “And it never should have happened to you, but it is no fault of your own. Someone should have protected you.”

 

Tom gently pulled the diary out of Harry’s hands. Harry forgot he was still holding it, and already missed it’s odd warmth. The world around them morphed back into where they had been earlier in the Slytherin Common Room.

 

“I do not know why someone wanted this, Harry, but I do not want you to go back.” Tom said as he guided Harry over to a couch. He pulled him to sit down next to the older boy. One arm around his shoulders and the hand on the other wiped some tears that Harry hadn’t even noticed from his cheeks.

 

“I don’t want to either! But I can’t do anything!” Harry turned and buried his head into Tom’s side. “If- if someone really knows and wants me to stay, what can I do?”

 

“We will go to someone _outside_ of Hogwarts. You mentioned a Malfoy was the one to ask for your sorting originally, did you not? That family had strong connections in many places in my time, and I am sure that has not changed.”

 

-

 

The Dursleys did not treat Harry Potter as well as Albus had hoped. He was aware of the rift between Petunia and her sister that formed because of Petunia’s jealousy. However they were family and he had hoped that Petunia would welcome the boy into her home. She had a young son the same age even. Surely her motherly instincts would kick in for Harry, too, he had thought.

 

That obviously had not happened and Hagrid had been quick to tell him just how he found Harry when he had finally delivered the boy’s letter. Harry’s clothes were much too big for him as if they never bought him clothes of his own. In the shack they were hiding in Harry had been forced to sleep on the dirt floor. To top it off Harry was clearly underfed. Albus was truly saddened to learn of Harry’s home life.

 

That did not mean he regretted it. It had been for the boy’s safety.

 

It gave him a whole new worry, however. What would Harry be like after such an unpleasant upbringing? Hagrid had said nothing but nice things about Harry’s character. He had only been with him for a short time, however, and Hagrid was entirely too trusting. With a homelife like Harry had experienced, he couldn’t be certain what the boy would be like.

 

When the boy made his way to Hogwarts, was sorted into Gryffindor and made fast friends with the youngest of the Weasley boys, Albus sighed with relief.

 

Harry’s caring and _light_ demeanor only confirmed he had been right all those years ago with Tom Riddle. Both boys grew up in very similar conditions, but they were nothing alike. Albus was relieved to have proof that it was not how they were raised that made them who they were. Harry was just _good._ Just like his father and mother before him.

 

Tom was not. He worried for a time that he had judged the young boy too harshly, despite what the matron at the orphanage had said. It hadn’t been their fault at all though. Tom was just unfortunate to have been born _dark._ He was unable to be anything else, and Albus what right to have kept such an eye on him.

 

He didn’t watch closely enough, as it was, with just how much farther Tom sank after Hogwarts.

 

A month ago those strong convictions had been shaken. The young Malfoy requested a re-sort for Harry and there was no avoiding it. Not that he had seen a problem with it as it was happening. Malfoy had meant to embarrass Harry, of course. But, Albus thought this was a great opportunity.

 

Harry had fallen under scrutiny with the belief that he was the Heir of Slytherin. Albus knew that wasn’t true at all, for Tom had been the last heir. The parseltongue was concerning, but he knew Harry was innocent.

 

So, he had hoped the re-sort would clear Harry’s name some. The hat would declare the boy Gryffindor again and the situation would improve for the poor boy.

 

When that had not happened, and the hat called Slytherin, then Albus started to doubt.

 

It was obvious to all that cared to look that young Harry had not wanted to be re-sorted. Sadly most did not care to notice more than that the young Potter was now in Slytherin. It looked like the boy’s friends were amongst that group, too.

 

From what he saw of Harry and heard from the staff that taught him, Harry withdrew into himself a lot since then. He no longer talked with his Gryffindor friends and he did not make any new friends in Slytherin.

 

It appeared he now focused entirely on his studies. Which was promising, he thought. Even if some did not share that opinion.

 

Albus had called Minerva and Severus up to discuss Harry’s progress. Minerva was mostly pleased.

 

“I used to have to call on him to answer questions, now he volunteers them. I knew he could do better, but I didn’t expect this level of dedication from him. He’s usually the first to complete a new transfiguration now. I keep wanting to award points to Gryffindor, when it is now Slytherin. I just can’t get used to it.” She sighed.

 

“Yes, it is still shocking to see him on the other side of the Great Hall during meals.” He agreed, “Has Harry improved in potions as much?”

 

“The boy is _excelling_ in Potions. It can’t be possible that he isn’t cheating, no one improves that much in a short amount of time, but I can’t find evidence.” Snape grouced.

 

“If there’s nothing to prove that he has been cheating, then perhaps he isn’t. What about tutoring? Are there any older students that you think might be helping the boy?” Dumbledore asked. He hoped it was someone not from a dark family, if so. But with the boy now in Slytherin, the chances of that were low.

 

“No, I’ve kept an eye on him and talked to my prefects. Other than at mealtimes and classes, the boy keeps to himself. It’s like he spends all of his time studying, even his atrocious handwriting has improved.”

 

“His handwriting? Even that bothers you, Severus?” Dumbledore asked, amused. Even if Harry was starting to differ from his father, Severus was still determined to hate the boy.

 

Snape grumbled and shoved a piece of parchment across the desk at him. Albus suppressed a chuckle. Severus must really be annoyed if he brought evidence with him.

 

“Here, _look._ What kind of boy writes like this? I can’t mark down any part of his work. He’s doing this on purpose!”

 

Dumbledore picked up the parchment, a potions essay it looked like. “I’m sure it isn’t intentional, my boy. He’s just-”

 

Severus was right, it was neat and elegant. That wasn’t the problem though. The problem was that it reminded him of another student’s writing. While he hadn’t seen the writing in years, since he was a transfiguration professor years ago, it was still recognizable.

 

“Albus?” Minerva questioned. “Is there something wrong with his writing after all?”

 

“It’s almost exactly like another student’s we had.” He said, not looking up from the gracefully curved letters that made up Harry Potter’s name. Willing the handwriting to return to how it should be.

 

“So he is cheating! He’s been copying someone else’s work!” The potions professor sounded triumphant.

 

“ _Severus_ , that doesn’t mean he’s been copying word for word. This might be the student tutoring him.” Minerva chastised reasonably, “Albus, do you remember who’s handwriting this is like? What year are they in?”

 

“They’ve long since graduated, Minerva. Nearly fifty years ago, now.”

 

Thrown, Minerva didn’t understand, “Fifty… How is that possible? There’s no way Harry has been leaving the school to see an ex-student, and we’d know if someone crossed the wards to enter, too.”

 

“That’s not the problem is it, Albus? Spit it out already, just whose handwriting is it that you remember it from that long ago?” Severus was losing his patience.

 

Dumbledore sighed. It shouldn’t be possible. He had no idea _how_ it was possible. No, that wasn’t completely true. He had an idea, but he’d hoped it wasn’t true. Now he’d have to look into it more now that there was no denying it was very likely to be true.

 

“Tom Riddle.” He said gravely, “With very little differences, this handwriting is almost exactly like a young Lord Voldemort’s.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't know why but I struggled with this chapter more than the other two. I couldn't get their conversations to flow how I wanted but I've modified it too many times already and I want to move on lol Going to have Valentines day in the next chapter. hehe


	4. Chapter 4

After Harry had revealed his living situation to Tom, he felt lighter. 

 

He hadn’t realized just how much he wanted someone to tell him he shouldn’t have to live with the Dursleys. To believe him.

 

There had been a few muggle teachers over the years that had brought up concerns about his home life in the past. Nothing ever came of those inquiries except more pain. His relatives were convincing when they needed to be. Which was whenever their image of a perfect family was in jeopardy. And once the well-meaning teacher’s concerns had been assuaged, Uncle Vernon was quick to dissuade him from bringing  _ shame  _ like that upon his family again.

 

Tom had done far better than those teachers ever did. He was helping Harry get out of there, something Harry thought wouldn’t come anymore until he was of age. Tom was stuck in a book and he was still trying to protect Harry more than any other person had so far.

 

Now, Harry wasn’t entirely thrilled about the plan, but he was determined to not go back to his muggle relatives if he could do anything about that. Tom had assured him it would work out, and it wouldn’t take much to get Malfoy to do what he wanted. 

 

It would be even easier since Harry had fed the rumors of being the Heir. Tom had been amused when Harry told him how he encouraged the Slytherins to believe he was the Heir, and in turn encouraged him to continue. Said it would benefit Harry. He’d even suggested, with a sly grin on his face, that Harry should  _ slip  _ into parseltongue in their common room and see what happens. Harry hated how tempting he found that idea.

 

Harry just had to find a time to talk to Malfoy alone. He wasn’t sure how he would accomplish that without drawing attention, as just entering a room had people watching him. Plus Malfoy was rarely alone to begin with. Crabbe and Goyle were never far away.

 

Luckily for Harry, he did not have to do anything, because Malfoy approached him first.

 

“Potter, do you have a minute?” Malfoy had caught up to him as Harry was heading to dinner a few days after his conversation with Tom. 

 

Harry nodded, and like with Hermione and Ron the day after his sorting, Malfoy led him to an unused classroom. 

 

“Listen, about what Flint said the other day…” He nervously started.

 

Oh, this was about Quidditch. He was honestly surprised Malfoy wanted to talk about it.

 

“I meant it, I do not have an interest in taking your spot on the team.” Harry tried to assure, “Or, are they giving  _ you  _ a hard time about that?”

 

“No, no one has said anything to me about that. I just, well, I wanted to make sure.” Malfoy was clearly nervous, though trying not to appear so, “I, you know, with the rivalry we had before, that was why I wanted to be on the team in the first place. It isn’t that big of a deal. If you were just being nice because of our truce, I of course would-”

 

“No, really, Malfoy, I don’t want that seeker position on the team. It is yours.” Harry cut him off, a little exasperated, “I truly am busy with other things right now.”

 

“Oh. Yes, of course. Yes.” Malfoy’s eyes widened and any pretense of not being nervous disappeared, “If- if I had, I mean, if there is  _ anything  _ that I can-”

 

“I had actually hoped to talk with you about something.”

 

“Really? About?” Malfoy looked so eager, and it was weird. 

 

“I’d hoped you’d be able to write to your father for me.”

 

“My father?” Suspicion creeped into his voice.

 

“Yes, I’ve heard you talk about his connections.” Harry started, now doing  _ his  _ best not to sound eager, “It’s no secret that I live with muggles, and I was interested in finding a way to get out of their guardianship. I’m sure it wouldn’t take much to find them...  _ unfit _ .”

 

“Of course he could, my father even knows the Minister. He’s been over to our Manor for dinner more than once.” Malfoy stated proudly, back to normal it seemed when he could brag about his father, “But, why should I, uh, I mean-”

 

“What’s in it for you?” Harry grinned, Tom had expected this, “I remember you were interested in friendship at first. Would you still want that for appearances sake?”

 

For freedom from the Dursleys Harry would fake a friendship with Malfoy. Like Tom had said, it really wouldn’t be much effort on his part. They already had their truce and Harry had sat by him a few times at meals and worked as partners in classes twice. It would just be more. 

 

Harry would have to be more sociable during those times, which meant he wouldn’t be able to write to Tom as much. Harry had protested the idea, when Tom suggested it, but he’d been reassured that Harry would still have plenty of time to talk to him.

 

Malfoy didn’t even appear to think it over. He grinned.

 

“In that case, we should be on a first name basis, shouldn’t we, Harry?” Malfoy said as he held out a hand, “Was there anything else I should pass along to father?”

 

“That would be best, Draco.” Harry replied, clasping his hand for a shake, “And, just that this should be kept quiet. I’ve reason to believe that someone is intent on keeping me with the muggles and I don’t want them hearing of this and ruining my chance at leaving.”

 

Malfoy- no,  _ Draco,  _ nodded at that and let go of Harry’s hand. “I’ll write to him right after dinner. Shall we head there now?”

 

Harry agreed, and when they entered the Great Hall together, a few minutes later, Harry caught sight of Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table out of a habit that he just could stop. Ron had looked over as Harry entered, but turned away quickly and tore into his meal in front of him, clearly irritated. Hermione, noticing his change in mood, sought out it’s source. She, too, avoided his eyes when she noticed him, but at least looked regretful, not angry.

 

_ I suppose I should stop waiting for that apology.  _ Harry thought to himself, with a lot less greif than he would have imagined earlier that month.

 

Next to him, Draco was as smug as Harry ever saw him.

 

-

 

“Female Weasley really has quite the crush on you, doesn’t she?” Draco mentioned, one Friday, a week into February as they headed back to their common room, Crabbe and Goyle in tow.

 

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, I guess.” Harry acknowledged, “Even you noticed, huh?”

 

“I think the whole school is aware. She spends most of her meals staring at you.”

 

“What?”

 

“You haven’t noticed?”

 

“No, I try not to look too closely at the Gryffindor table much. Ron’s normally glaring at me.” Harry said running a hand through his messy hair, “She doesn’t really stare at me  _ that  _ much does she?”

 

“Sometimes I’m sure she doesn’t blink.” Crabbe spoke up, in a rare attempt to add to the conversation. Next to him Goyle grunted in agreement.

 

“Oh, Merlin,  _ really? _ I thought she would have lost interest when I was re-sorted into Slytherin.” Harry groaned.

 

“I’ve seen her in the library since then. Apparently she’s trying to find a way to get her  _ hero  _ back into his rightful house.” The blonde boy nudged Harry in the side with an elbow at the word ‘hero’. 

 

Harry didn’t bother replying as the stretch of wall that hid the Slytherin Common room came into view. The group stopped in front of it and Draco announced the new password, amusement oozing from his tone, “Lightning”.

 

Harry groaned again at that. He didn’t know who made the passwords, or why they thought Harry would want one to clearly refer to him, but they did. The only upside to that was that Snape probably hated the new password just as much.

 

Once the bricks concealing the entrance shifted away, they stepped through. Draco immediately headed for the table that had become their usual over the week since they agreed to friendship. Unless they needed the library for research, Draco preferred being in the common room where the other Slytherins could see him with Harry. The group of fourth years that already occupied the table eagerly gathered their things when they spotted Harry, with a, “We were just finishing up. Please, have this spot.” 

 

Harry thanked them as Draco, clearly pleased with the situation, flopped into a chair and grabbed out some of his school things. Crabbe and Goyle sat as well, reluctantly doing the same. Harry didn’t expect them to stay long, they normally wandered off after a little bit of studying.

 

Harry followed suit. If he could finish his Transfiguration essay now, he’d have the night to talk to Tom. Or, an hour or two until Tom kicked him out of the diary saying Harry needed a full night’s sleep.

 

Ginny wasn’t the only one that was staring at him a lot, he thought. The last class he had with McGonagall she had been acting different around him. Everytime he raised his hand to answer a question correctly, she’d looked so concerned. 

 

He didn’t know what had changed. She had been surprised, like the other professors, when his grades had started improving. But recently she had started to look proud of his accomplishments, even if she wasn’t his head of house anymore, and it made him feel good. Now, though, she looked worried. He just wished he knew why.

 

Even without Tom’s help, Harry was able to work at a good pace through his essay. With practice his writing was getting easier. He’d still have Tom check over it, but he was already pretty happy with it so far. He was almost done, trying to wrap up the last of it, when another student arrived in the Common Room and approached their table.

 

“Excuse me, Potter? I have a note for you from Professor Dumbledore. He wants to see you in his office.” The unfamiliar older girl handed over the indicated note.

 

“What do you think he wants?” Draco asked, looking up from whatever he was working on. “Do you think it is about…  _ you know. _ ” He whispered the last part, looking around to see if anyone was listening in.

 

Draco seemed to think anything that concerned Harry had something to do with the Heir of Slytherin business. It was almost amusing.

 

“I don’t think so, but I’ve no idea.” Harry said as he accepted the note. All it contained was the candy-themed password. “I’ll put my stuff away and go find out.”

 

Harry gathered up his things and retreated to his dorm as calmly as possible, despite how nervous he actually felt over seeing the Headmaster. 

 

When Tom had come to the conclusion that someone was trying to keep him at the Dursley’s he hadn’t specified who he thought it was. He’d said the letter was sent out by the Headmaster or the deputy Headmistress, so it was either Dumbledore or McGonagall. 

 

The letter was written by McGonagall, yes, but  _ Dumbledore  _ was the Headmaster. So if she had noticed something off about his letter, surely she would have gone to him. He didn’t know how all of this worked, but he imagined it was Dumbledore who sent Hagrid to get him. Dumbledore, too, was the one he asked about staying at Hogwarts.

 

It could be that both of them want him to stay at the Dursleys, for all he knew at the moment. It was just that Dumbledore had more power as Headmaster, and since Harry did not interact with him nearly as much as McGonagall he didn’t really know him. It was much harder to guess what his intentions were.

 

It was all so confusing. He couldn’t help but worry. After all, he had only asked Draco a week ago to contact his father for help in getting away from his relatives. He’d hoped the matter would have been held quietly, but maybe that wasn’t possible. 

 

Harry dropped his bag unceremoniously inside his room and quickly scratched a message to Tom, writing sloppier than it’d been in weeks in his haste.

 

_ Just got a note. Dumbledore wants to see me. Do you think he knows? _

 

Tom’s writing, too, when it came, though still elegant, was obviously hurried.

 

_ See you in his office? And I doubt it, if Malfoy’s father is handling this as I imagine, he should not know anything. It must be something else. Stay calm and do not look him directly in the eyes. Leave the diary here, too. _

 

Woah, what?

 

Leave Tom here? Harry hadn’t been parted from the diary for more than a moment since he found his friend. He needed Tom with him!

 

_ I can’t leave you here- _

 

Tom’s writing started up again before he could finish, something that never happened before.

 

_ Please, Harry, I’ll explain later. But trust me on this. If he notices my presence, I have no doubt he will take me away. _

 

_ Okay. I will. I’ll come back directly after. _

 

_ Thank you, I’ll explain then. Remember to not look him in the eyes, that is important, too. Good luck. _

 

-

 

Albus heard the boy before he even approached the door to his office, and when the boy hesitated, he called him in.

 

“Ah, Harry. Good to see you. Have a seat.” Albus welcomed, cheerfully, “I hope I didn’t pull you from anything important?”

 

“I was working on my Transfiguration essay.” The boy said, looking confused as he sat down in one of the plush chairs in front of the Headmaster’s desk. He glanced up, not quite enough to make eye contact and asked, “Is something wrong, Professor?”

 

“I do hope not, but that depends on you.”

 

“What?”

 

Even if his voice was calm, Harry was clearly nervous, his hands clenched tightly in his lap.

 

“It’s been a month now since you joined Slytherin, my boy. I wondered how you were fitting in.” The Headmaster explained, “I have heard from your professors, of course, but I wanted to check in with you as well. It has been a long time since something like this happened. And for it to happen to you, someone who obviously belongs in the house of the brave and chivalrous, I worried how this unfortunate change affected you.”

 

“Oh, er, everything is fine.” 

 

“Are you sure? I noticed you have not spoken with your friends Ronald and Hermione much since. While it isn’t possible to get you back where you belong in Gryffindor, as you know, I could, howver, find a room for you closer to them outside of the dungeons. It pains me to see your friendships withering away, my boy, they are so important.”

 

“It wasn’t my fault they didn’t want to talk to me after.” The boy looked offended, “I don’t care what they think anymore, anyway. I have made new friends in my house, like Draco.”

 

Yes, Albus had noticed. That was concerning and part of the reason he’d called Harry up here. It was a bit of a relief to hear the boy say ‘friends’, however, and sound like he meant it. Though it was still with a Malfoy, a family loyal to the Dark. Albus had noticed, too, how the other Slytherins had begun to look at Harry as of late. It was frightfully similar to how Tom’s first groups of followers looked at him long ago.

 

“That is good to hear, but are you sure? You were friends with them for quite a bit longer and you went through so much together.” He tried again. Really, it would be best for Harry to get away from the influence of Slytherin house. He should have done this right away after the horrible re-sorting, but he was caught unprepared on what to do in that situation. He was glad he had at least had the good sense to have given the child his own room. “The color on your robes do not need to matter, after all it is our choices that-”

 

“No.”

 

Albus’ heart dropped.

 

The boy’s eyes had narrowed, unfortunately still not meeting his own, “Pardon me, Sir, but I do not wish to change that. I am a Slytherin now and that doesn’t bother me. I wouldn’t go back to Gryffindor even if it was possible.”

 

“Ah, forgive me, my boy. I was just concerned. I did not mean to upset you.” He smiled at him pleasantly.

 

“Is that all, Sir? I would like to get back to my studies.”

 

“Yes, of course. I’ve heard how much importance you place upon them now. You’ll come to me if you have any doubts, yes?”

 

“Sure.” Harry said, sounding like he most surely would not come to him as he quickly departed the office.

 

Albus sighed, that had not gone as he had hoped. 

 

There were some positives though, the boy’s presence did not trigger any of his dark detecting items.

 

While he had not been able to get the boy to even look him in the eye for a second to get a glimpse of his thoughts, he still saw enough from the way he spoke and held himself to see that Harry might still be with them. He wasn’t exactly like Tom Riddle like he had feared.

 

There were plenty of concerning similarities, yes, but he wasn’t a carbon copy. Thank Merlin, there was hope. 

 

If it wasn’t for the handwriting he might have just believed it was the influence of Slytherin house that was changing Harry. But it wasn’t. That writing was too specific. Somehow Voldemort was influencing poor Harry. 

 

Sadly, he had an idea of how, too. He had noticed all those years ago when he saw the babe for the first time after the attack at Godric’s Hollow, that there was something Dark in that scar. It could have just been remnants of the Unforgivable that had been cast at him, sure. Afterall, there was no way of knowing for certain as something like this had never happened before.

 

When he suspected that Voldemort had not died, and would possibly return, Albus had searched for reasons as to why. He read through books he never wanted to pick up, learned horrible rituals that he hoped he could forget, all in his search for understanding. And then he found the worst bit of Dark Magic yet,  _ Horcruxes.  _

 

Of course, Tom hadn’t wanted to just prolong his life. No, he wanted to live forever. Albus should have realized. Tom was too hungry for power and much too controlling, there was no way he would want to pass on any power he did obtain to a successor.  

 

So a Horcrux, or Horcruxes, was most likely what Tom Riddle had turned to. And, poor Harry, he appeared to be one of them. Accidental, too, by the looks of it. When Voldemort had confronted Harry at the end of the term last year it didn’t seem like he even noticed what Harry carried, from what he gathered from the boy’s recollection of the event.

 

In what little he found on Horcruxes, there was never mention of a living one. If there ever was one before, it was never documented. So, all he could do was speculate what was happening now.

 

The horcrux must be active now. It made sense, why else would Harry not want to get away from Slytherin House? Oddly, though, from what he saw a few minutes ago, the Horcrux wasn’t completely in control of the boy. No, Harry was still there, he was just being influenced by Tom’s shard of soul.

 

The close proximity to the dark children of Slytherin house must have awoken the Horcrux. It was a shame Harry didn’t agree to move out of the dorm. It might’ve slowed down whatever was happening. 

 

Albus would just have to find another way to stop that. Keep that darkness from influencing him further. He’d go back to researching. 

 

Maybe he would have Severus help him with this, too. McGonagall was aware of Harry resembling Voldemort, but no more than that. She would keep a closer eye on him, but he didn’t want to burden her further with talk of foul matters like Horcruxes.

 

-

 

When Harry arrived back at the common room he was cut off by Draco before he could retreat to his dorm. 

 

“What did he want?” 

 

“He said he wanted to check up on me. Make sure I fit in here.” Harry grouced, still coming down from his anger, “What he really wanted was for me to pretend like I was still a Gryffindor. He even offered me a room closer to the Gryffindors. He can’t remove me from Slytherin, but he wants me to put as much distance as I can between myself and the rest of the house.”

 

“ _ What?”  _ Draco sounded scandalized at that.

 

Going by the looks and gasps of the other Slytherins within hearing distance, he wasn’t the only one offended.

 

“What did you say? Are you actually moving out of the dorm?” Draco sounded worried. No surprise there, since the boy was currently enjoying the popularity of being Harry Potter’s friend. Or, rather, the  _ heir’s  _ friend.

 

“I told him no.” Harry rolled his eyes and pushed past him to continue to his room, ready to talk to Tom. 

 

“You did? You want to stay?” Draco apparently didn’t think the conversation was over, but Harry just wanted to talk to Tom.

Tom’s suggestion came to mind, then, and Harry turned back slightly to face Draco, “Of, course. After all, Slytherin suits me better.” He thought up an image of a snake in his mind and hissed, “ _ Don’t you agree, Draco?” _

 

Harry didn’t wait to see what the reactions were like and left. No one followed after.

 

When he finally managed to get back to his dorm, he went straight to the diary. He didn’t even do more than open to the first page before it sucked him in. Tom was impatient.

 

“Oof!” Harry grunted, picking himself off the Common Room’s floor. “You didn’t give me a chance to brace myself, Tom!”

 

Tom was by him in seconds, reaching a hand down to help him to his feet.

 

“I was worried.” Tom said as if it was an apology. “What happened? What did he say?”

 

“It was weird, he said he was concerned.” Harry told him, dropping Tom’s hand now that he was upright, “Said that he wanted to make sure I was doing okay in Slytherin. If he cared, he would have done that earlier. He wants me to be friends with Ron and Hermione again. He didn’t say it outright, but I don’t think he wants me to be friends with Draco.”

 

“Probably not. He’s always thought that Slytherins in general were bad, so the Malfoy’s in particular would make the least ideal friends in his eyes.” 

 

“You know it’s not like I even care about being friends with Draco. Ron and Hermione, too, they don’t bother me. I could be friends with them again, but that’s up to them right now. I’m not going to be the one to ask for forgiveness! So that doesn’t bother me. What does is that he seems to want to control my life. I think it’s him that wants me to stay at the Dursleys. It has to be.”

 

“I think so, too, Harry.” Tom sighed. “I agree, too, with the fact that he would have called you up earlier if he was worried about your sorting. There is no reason to be concerned now. You are ‘friends’ with Draco and you are not conflicting with the other students in your house. You are succeeding in your classes, as well. There has to be another reason. I still do not think it has to do with what Malfoy is looking into, don’t worry about that.”

 

“That’s good.” Harry relaxed at that, “Draco still hasn’t heard anything back from his father other than that he was going to look into it.”

 

“That is to be expected, it has been, what, a week? This will take time, which is a good thing we started this now so other arrangements can be made before school is out.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

There was a pause before Harry spoke up again. 

 

“Tom?” He asked quietly, “Why couldn’t I take you with me? You thought Dumbledore would have taken you away, but why is that?”

 

“There are trinkets in the Headmaster’s office that detect certain types of magic. All headmasters have had this to some degree, to alert them if a student has something that might be prohibited on them.”

 

“And you- the diary is something like that?” Harry was confused. 

 

Tom looked hesitant, but said evenly, “I created the diary with Dark Magic.”

 

“What?” Harry stepped back shaking his head, shocked. “No, that can’t be. I had you with me in his office the last time I was there. Right after I was re-sorted I was brought to his office. I had the diary in my bag at the time.”

 

“I am not entirely certain how he did not notice then.” Tom thought to himself for a moment, “It may have been because you had just found me. You had not written in my diary at that point, had you?” 

 

Tom looked to him and Harry shook his head slowly.

 

“I sat for many years before someone wrote in me. While I was a aware to an extent that time was passing, I was mostly dormant. When the last person discarded my diary so forcefully, I must have been in a similar state.” Tom smiled slightly, “That, or the headmaster was too distracted by you being re-sorted.”

 

“I just don’t understand. You used Dark Magic?”

 

“Harry, most of Slytherin is Dark. You know that, right?” Tom’s smile grew.

 

“I, yeah, I guess I  _ knew _ , but I didn’t really think about it.” Harry admitted reluctantly. Was it not that big of a deal? Tom wasn’t acting like it was something bad, but, “Everyone talks about Dark Magic like it’s terrible.”

 

“Everyone? Or everyone in Gryffindor?” Tom said patiently.

 

“No… er…” 

 

Well, Tom had a point. Until he was re-sorted most of the people he talked to were Gryffindors. Ron’s  _ entire  _ family had been in Gryffindor. But, still- “Isn’t it evil?”

 

“Magic is magic, Harry. It’s not one or the other. Dark Magic does tend to be more destructive than other areas, but that just means you should be more cautious when learning it. Parseltongue is considered to be a Dark talent. Do you think you are bad because of it?”

 

“I wasn’t sure for a while. I mean, I’m in Slytherin now…”

 

“Do you think I am bad?”

 

“What? No! You help me with everything, you’re so nice-”

 

“What about Draco? I know you are not too fond of him, but you have been able to talk to him now as friends, not enemies. The Malfoy’s are a traditionally Dark family. Do you think he’s bad?”

 

“Well, he’s not the nicest but, I guess not. He’s not that bad, he’s just kind of annoying.”

 

“See? The hat, too, might have placed you in Slytherin because you could have an affinity for Dark Magic.”

 

“Like- like I could  _ learn  _ Dark Magic?” Harry was back to being alarmed.

 

Tom nodded and stepped forward, excited at the idea.

 

“Yes, I could teach you. Hogwarts won’t teach that branch of magic, so dark families teach their children at their homes. The knowledge is passed down through their line. I learned myself through books, some of them were even from the library here, Harry. I could teach you, I am sure you could do it.”

 

He didn’t know what to say. Dark Magic was supposed to be bad! A Dark Lord killed his parents! Harry couldn’t learn- couldn’t  _ be  _ a Dark Wizard.

 

But then again, he also didn’t think he was a Slytherin once. Now, that didn’t bother him anymore. 

 

He could admit that his information about Dark Magic might have been from biased sources. He’d been in Slytherin for a month now and he hadn’t heard any of his housemates really say anything on the matter, so he didn’t really know their side.

 

“Harry.” 

 

He jerked his head up at Tom. He must’ve been in thought for too long. 

 

“I am a Dark Wizard. I am not ashamed of that fact. Does that change your opinion of me?”

 

Tom had that look on his face again. It was just like when he’d revealed to him his own sorting and had expected a negative reaction from Harry. Harry had decided then that he’d be Tom’s friend, right?

 

If Tom was a dark wizard, then maybe it was okay. 

 

“No, I guess it changes nothing, Tom. I’m sorry.” Harry moved closer, hugging the older boy in apology. He didn’t mean to make Tom doubt that Harry was his friend. “I don’t know if I’d really be any good, but I’d try if you wanted to teach me some small things.”

 

He probably wouldn’t be any good. Tom had said the Malfoy family was traditionally dark. Harry didn’t know much about the Potter’s, but he knew at least his father had been in Gryffindor so they would be the opposite, right? Traditionally Light? 

 

No, Harry didn’t think he’d be any good, but Tom looked so excited with the idea so it couldn’t hurt to try. He’d try, be no good, and then they could move on.

 

Tom squeezed him back, “You’ll be great, Harry, I know it.”

 

-

 

_ Hello Tom, can I see you? _

 

_ Of course. _

 

In a now familiar motion, the diary’s pages flew to the middle of the book and Harry felt that slight tug.

 

When he picked himself up from the ground this time it was to the Slytherin Common room. Tom was seated at one of the highback chairs next to the empty fireplace, his own diary on his lap. When Harry mentioned once that he couldn’t feel heat or cold in the Diary, Tom said it had always been that way and Harry thought it sounded like it bothered him, even if Tom wouldn’t admit it. He figured Tom left the grates empty so as not to draw attention to that fact and remind himself.

 

“It is early, is it not? Did you leave dinner early, Harry?” Tom asked, gesturing for Harry to take the identical seat nearby.

 

“I left early.” Harry sighed, but continued quickly at the look on Tom’s face, “I ate my whole meal, but I just had to get out of there.”

 

“Oh? Did something happen? I thought the fuss about your sorting had died down recently.”

 

“No, it has. It wasn’t that.”

 

Harry paused, but Tom remained silent waiting for him to continue.

 

“It’s Valentine's Day.”

 

Tom’s posture became more rigid at that. His eyes hardened, too, clearly displeased by the thought. Harry wasn’t sure why.

 

“Ah. Did you confess to another student?” Tom asked in a slightly lower tone than normal. “I thought you would have told me about something like that.”

 

“What? No!” The younger Slytherin was shocked, “I was confessed  _ to!” _

 

Tom blinked, and his posture returned to normal so suddenly Harry thought he might’ve imagined the difference to begin with.

 

“From that tone, I take it that it was not a welcome confession?” And there was that smirk on his face again, “Who was it that tried to gain your affection, love?”

 

He tried his best to not react in anyway when Tom used that term of affection on him, but he could bet his cheeks pinkened slightly against his will. He didn’t dislike it and that was the problem. He was afraid Tom would stop if Harry drew any attention to it.

 

“Ginny Weasley. She’s Ron’s little sister.” He admitted.

 

Tom didn’t say anything, just stared at him expectantly, clearly waiting for Harry to continue.

 

_ Fine _ . He’d just blurt it all out, the whole embarrassing incident, and get it over with. Tom would get the story out of him one way or another anyway. 

 

“Lockhart had this stupid idea about having dwarfs dress up like little cupids and delivering love notes for students. When people noticed one was heading for me everyone turned to watch. The creature wouldn’t leave without delivering it’s message and when I tried to get away from it, the thing  _ tackled me!  _ My stuff went everywhere and as I was trying to pick it all up, the little monster spewed Ginny’s stupid poem in front of the whole school.  _ Musically! _ Well, I didn’t know it was from her at first, but Ron cornered me after about staying away from his sister. It was just so  _ embarrassing!” _

 

Tom was practically beaming with happiness by the end of his short story. The older Slytherin didn’t have to look so pleased at that! Harry slumped in his seat and crossed his arms. He came here for support, not this!

 

“Sounds terrible.”

 

“It was.”

 

“Not at all romantic.”

 

“Definitely not.”

 

“How did the poem go?”

 

“I don’t remember.”

 

“Oh, I’m sure you do. Something like that is probably fixed in your memory now. Won’t you share it with me, love?”

 

_ Shite. _

 

Tom must know how that affectionate term made him feel, the bastard. 

 

But, that term, combined with his dazzling smile, worked and Harry repeated it for him tonelessly.

 

_ His eyes are as green as a fresh picked toad, _

_ His hair is as dark as a blackboard. _

_ I wish he was mine, he’s really divine, _

_ The hero who conquered the Dark Lord. _

 

Tom didn’t laugh, but mirth was more than obvious on his face. 

 

“ _ Happy?”  _ Harry practically snarled, mortified.

 

“Yes, though I think that poem does not do you justice.” Tom said drawing Harry’s shocked gaze back to him.

 

Tom pocketed his diary as he stood from his chair and took the few steps over to where Harry sat. The taller boy sank to his knees, bringing his gaze to be even with Harry’s own. Harry felt, more than saw, Tom untangle his own crossed arms, pulling his hands down to rest on his knees, covered by Tom’s larger hands.

 

Tom, Harry come to realize, was a very tactile person. Gestures, such as hand holding, still flustered Harry, but he figured Tom needed it after being alone in a diary for who knows how long. It wasn’t that Harry didn’t like it (he actually  _ really  _ liked it), he just wasn’t used to it.

 

“I mean, ‘ _ fresh picked toad’  _ and ‘ _ dark as a blackboard’ _ are not very flattering comparisons, are they?”

 

Harry shook his head, grimacing, bracing himself for another joke at his cost. Everyone in the great hall laughed at him already, so why not Tom, too?

 

Tom hummed in thought, then spoke:

 

_ Looks are only part of your attraction, _

_ once a lion, now my sweet little snake. _

_ I won’t let you go, and want you to know, _

_ Harry, a most treasured friend you make. _

 

“Better?”

 

Harry nodded mutely. Did Tom come up with that on the spot?

 

“After all, anyone can see how beautifully your dark hair contrasts with your skin and how stunning those green eyes are. There is just so much  _ more  _ to you that I know they do not see.” Tom continued as if he’d no idea of his word’s effect on Harry. “You are intelligent and talented at magic. I envy your ability to forgive. You bring warmth whenever you are here. I even find it adorable when you try to mimic my handwriting, love.” 

 

“I-what- you!” Harry stuttered, as his heart raced in his chest, “It’s really nice handwriting is all! Anyone would want to! Why’d you have to mention that?”

 

Harry groaned, more embarrassed now than he’d been earlier, a feat he hadn’t thought possible. He tried to bring his hands up to cover his face, but Tom held firm to them, his own face bright with happiness. The git.

 

“You know what? It reminds me of something.” A sly grin took over Tom’s face.

 

“Oh?” Harry asked, despite the feeling that he really did not want to hear what it was, looking away from Tom as he did.

 

“My past admirers did not copy my writing, but my name instead.”

 

“What?” He looked back, confused.

 

“You know, hopeful little scribbles on scraps of parchment of my name after their own. To me it is like that. Have you been doing that secretly, too, love?” Tom leaned closer, handsome face beaming as he continued softly, “Have you been practicing writing  _ ‘Harry Riddle’  _ in the margins of your notes-”

 

Harry’s heart dip a violent flip.

 

And then so did Tom when Harry shoved him back in mortification.

 

Tom lay sprawled on the floor blinking up at him in shock before bursting into the most unattractive laughter Harry’d ever heard from him. Tom took great heaving gulps of air in between guffaws and giggles, eyes squeezed shut as his own hands covered his mouth, in an unsuccessful attempt to keep in the horrible noise. 

Harry himself could hardly breathe, too. How could Tom say such things? Like he wouldn’t mind if Harry liked him like that. Merlin, this was the guy he was falling for-

 

Oh.

 

He really was, wasn’t he?

 

Harry was falling for a boy in a book. An arrogant, egotistical, dark, brilliant, wonderful, caring boy stuck in a book. Harry groaned.

 

Tom was older, too. He might look like he was still a student, but he’d been in the diary for years. Did that count? Just how much older was Tom?

 

Merlin, Tom was messing with him, wasn’t he?

 

Yes, that was obvious, he thought despondently, looking down at Tom, who was finally pulling himself together.

 

“Are you through?” Harry asked, trying not to sound like he hadn’t just been crushed.

 

“Alright, I will stop.” Tom said with fond amusement his own face slightly pink from laughter.

 

He stood, brushing off his robes as he did. “Well, let us not waste this extra time together, Harry. You mentioned before that you could not wait to be able to spend time outside. Since weather is not a problem here, would you like to go for a walk with me, love?”

 

He held out a hand to Harry, and Harry stared at it for a moment before gingerly grabbing hold.

 

_ Even if he’s just messing with me, I hope he never stops. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took the poem right out of CoS for this. 
> 
> Hopefully Harry’s feelings aren’t too sudden? For his feelings for Tom and how quickly he's starting to be okay with Dark Magic. That part was really hard for me to get written. 
> 
> Unfortunately, I think there might be a bit of a gap between this chapter and the next. I’m a little stuck on what should happen next. I know where I want this story to end up, but I’m not sure on how to get there just yet. :/ I'm honestly surprised how fast I've been moving through this so far. Well, kind of. The story's only made it to February, but we're over 20k words. LOL This is going to cover the rest of the school year.
> 
> OH, and who do you guys think would have replaced Harry as the Gryffindor seeker? I get that it would have been Ginny in later years, but right now she’s a first-year, so I just don’t know. It would have to be someone who is at least in Harry’s year, but I’ve got no ideas right now. It’s not super important, it might just be a nameless person, but I was just curious as to what everyone thought.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait, for whatever reason this chapter did not want to be written. I wrote out some parts for future chapters that my brain insisted on doing first, then tried again at this chapter. It still just wasn’t working and I opened up the document multiple times a day over a week writing maybe a paragraph or two until today when I decided it was happening no matter what. I kind of forced it, so I’m not sure how I feel about the whole thing, but I’m glad it’s done so I can move on to other parts. And, hey, I think this chapter puts the story over 30k words, or close to it at least. So I'm pretty happy about that.

A month ago, when he was still best friends with Ron Weasley, Harry wouldn’t have thought much about missing an assignment. Now, with Tom’s disappointment looming over him should he fail, Harry felt a lot different about the matter.

 

“You’re far more upset over one assignment than I ever thought you’d be.” Draco sounded amused by his frustration. “Don’t worry so much, Harry. It’s just one assignment, and Binns said you can still turn it in for half credit next time.”

 

“I know, I know, but it’s just that I already did the assignment! It’s not in my bag or my dorm, I don’t know how I lost it.” He grudgingly supposed, too, that it was probably lucky that of all the assignments to have lost, the one for History of Magic was the least damaging. He’d much rather lose this one, than one for Potions. Snape had been watching him more than normal lately, most likely in the hopes that he’d screw up something and would be able to mark Harry down.

 

“Well, it’ll be easier the second time at least.” Draco said reasonably as the two of them departed the common room, Harry with his bag and Draco with his broom, “I’d help you with it, but I’ve got Quidditch practice, as you know. We’re going to crush Ravenclaw when we play them.”

 

Harry very much doubted Draco would have helped him even if he wasn’t busy. Not that it mattered, he wouldn’t have wanted his help anyway. With Draco being preoccupied, Harry would be able to write to Tom as he worked. Something he hadn’t been able to do much during the day since he became friends with Draco.

 

“Have you heard the Gryffindor team held tryouts for the seeker position?” Draco inquired hesitantly. Harry had recently said that he wanted to stay in Slytherin, and quite publicly, too, but Draco appeared to doubt his sincerity. It was like he thought that Harry might suddenly realize that he should regret not wanting to return to his house.

 

For a spoiled pureblood, Draco was far more insecure than he appeared from afar.

 

“No, I didn’t. Who did Wood pick to replace me?” Harry asked. He was genuinely interested. Since he didn’t tryout for the spot, just been given it, he wasn’t sure who else would be interested in the position.

 

“Well, he hasn’t picked yet. There might be another tryout, because the last one went horribly. No one was able to find the snitch that Wood released.” The blonde was thrilled, “Ah, if only our match again Gryffindor hadn’t already happened. I’ll just have to look forward to next year’s match against them.”

 

Draco was clearly imagining the match already in his head. No doubt imagining a spectacular win with the way he was smiling. Any happier and Harry wouldn’t be surprised if he started skipping. The blonde turned to him again.

 

“Oh! If they do hold another tryout, we’ll have to go see. I’m disappointed in myself for missing the first one. They’ll have to do it soon, they’ll be playing against Hufflepuff in the beginning of next month.”

 

He wasn’t sure if he really wanted to go see the tryouts for his former spot on the Gryffindor team, but decided to not say anything. He’d just have to come up with something else to do while it was going on if it bothered him. Right now he wasn’t certain how he felt.

 

 _Maybe Ron will try out for the team. I could go and cheer him on._ Harry thought. Yeah, he was sure Ron would try out now that he thought about it, if he hadn’t already tried. Draco would most likely be annoyed if Harry showed support for his old friend, but he’d think of something to make it up to him. Like mention how well Draco did on a spell or potion in front of their housemates at dinner, or something.  Draco was easy to please.

 

When they ascended the last staircase out of the dungeons and arrived on the ground floor of the castle, Draco turned and headed outside with a promise to tell Harry all about practice at dinner. He didn’t envy the other Slytherin at all right now. It was cold outside. The freezing temperatures and snow probably contributed plenty to the poor luck at the Gryffindor tryouts.

 

Happy to be inside, Harry continued for the library. Draco was right in that it would be easy for Harry to re-do the assignment, but he still needed to check dates from the books he used to be sure it was accurate.

 

It wouldn’t take long, and with Draco gone at practice until dinner, Harry could return to his dorm after to see Tom earlier than usual.

 

Entering the library, he headed straight for his normal table, luckily empty at this time. There weren’t many people in the place to begin with. As he walked, red hair out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.

 

Ginny Weasley was seated alone at one table, with as many books around her as he’d have expected from Hermione. He remembered Draco mentioning that she was looking for a way to get him back into Gryffindor and wondered if that was what she was working on now.

 

Maybe he should say something. It was weird how invested she was in it, and he didn’t want someone to waste their time on something he no longer cared about. She looked stressed out, too.

 

Mind made up, he changed direction and headed for her instead. Now would be a good time, too, since Ron was nowhere nearby and wouldn’t be able to tell him to stay away from his sister.

 

She looked up from her book for a moment, probably unintentionally, just sensing movement, and looked back down just as quickly, only to have her eyes shoot back up to him in shock. The red-headed girl began hastily gathering up her things from the table to Harry’s dismay. He knew she was nervous around him due to her crush, but he didn’t expect her to stop everything and bolt at the sight of him.

 

He clearly underestimated her shyness around him because she’d finished stacking up her books and things into her arms ready to flee by the time he approached her table.

 

“Hey Ginny, do you have a moment?” He called out, quiet enough that the librarian wouldn’t notice. Ginny halted in the middle of her hasty bid for escape and stared at him wide-eyed.

 

“I-I was just leaving.” She near whispered. She flicked her eyes over to the exit, as if that proved her intent to depart.

 

“I see that.” Harry smiled and looked meaningfully at the pile of books and parchment in her arms, “I just wanted to talk to you real quick. I’m not sure if it’s true, but I’ve heard about what you are trying to do for me.”

 

Somehow her eyes got wider at that and she tightened her grip on her things. “Y-y-you did? I can, I can explain-”

 

“Woah, woah, it’s okay.” He cut her off before she could truly descend into a panic and draw the attention of Madam Pince. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. “I just wanted to let you know that you don’t have to. I’m happy where I am now, Ginny. The sudden change was a shock for me, yeah, but I am alright. Slytherin is best for me. The Headmaster is even aware of my feelings on my sorting.”

 

To his alarm, his reassurance didn’t appear to help. The girl looked close to tears but didn’t say anything back. Why was talking to her so hard? It was honestly frustrating. He was trying to be nice, there was no reason to freak out.

 

“Ginny, do you understand what I’m saying?” He urged, possibly a little too harshly, ready for this disaster to be over with.

 

“Yes. Yes, _sorry._ I- yes.” She struggled out and then turned and fled without another word.

 

Harry sighed as he watched her rush past a table that some second-year Hufflepuffs were seated at. Ernie Macmillan glared back at him.

 

Shite. This was definitely going to get back to Ron.

 

-

 

As soon as they had the time to spare, Tom insisted on introducing Harry to the Dark Arts.

 

Inside Tom’s Diary, Harry could not truly perform magic. When Tom taught him in the diary, Tom would control the world around them and make it seem like magic was being performed. Harry would still needed to practice in the real world to be sure he was getting it right. It was worth the effort, as it was more helpful to see the wand movements or see how to chop or dice a potion ingredient, rather than through words written on a page.

 

Tom shifted their surroundings into a classroom one day before Harry could come up with a reason to delay the lesson any longer. His feelings on the subject were still jumbled.

 

“What do you know about the Dark Arts? What have you heard about them?” Tom began, as Harry slowly took a seat.

 

“Not much, other than, you know, that everyone-” A look from Tom had him rephrase, “That _Gryffindors_ say that they’re bad.”

 

“What exactly did they say?”

 

“Well, when Hagrid first told me about all the Hogwarts Houses he said something like all bad witches and wizards came from Slytherin and since most Slytherins followed Voldemort they used Dark Magic.”

 

“Hagrid seems to exaggerate.” Tom sighed, “Anything else?”

 

“Ah, not really anything specific. But, if Hogwarts doesn’t teach Dark Arts is it because it is illegal?”

 

“I am glad you asked, Harry.” Tom said, completely in his ‘teacher mode’ now, “No, the Dark Arts in general are not illegal, but there are some parts that are. The easiest example would be the Unforgivables. Have you heard of them, Harry?”

 

Harry shook his head. That didn’t sound familiar, but nor did it sound good.

 

“The Unforgivable Curses are three separate curses. The use of any of these will get the caster sent to Azkaban, the Wizarding world’s prison, and usually for life.”

 

“What are they?” Harry asked, nervous of the answer.

 

“The first one is the Imperius Curse. When cast on another, it overrides the victim’s will and allows the caster to control their movements. It is hard to fight off, no matter what the person casting the curse wants you to do.”

 

Harry nodded in understanding and Tom continued.

 

“The next is the Cruciatus curse, a curse that causes _intense_ pain. It leaves no physical marks, but can damage the victim mentally if they are held under the curse for too long. Or, the victim may cause physical damage to themselves as they thrash around.”

 

Reluctantly, he nodded again. If this list was was going from bad to worse, he could guess what came next and didn’t really want to hear it. Tom, on the other hand, appeared enthused. The Dark Arts were clearly a subject Tom was passionate about.

 

“The last of the three, many consider to be the worst one of all. The Killing Curse. As you can imagine from its name, it kills the victim. It can not be blocked by any shield.”

 

Harry definitely understood why they were called unforgivables. If Tom thought this was going to entice Harry to practice the Dark Arts he was severely mistaken. Tom, seeing his unease, quickly assured with a grin, “Those are the worst ones, that’s not what I will be showing you today.”

 

The thought flew through Harry’s mind that Tom said ‘today’ and not never, but didn’t dwell on it as Tom carried on with his lesson.

 

“Like I said, those are the Dark Arts that are illegal. Keep in mind, too, that using light spells can get a person in trouble if used will ill intent. For Dark Arts there are a few others, of course, that are banned like rituals or potions that use certain ingredients, but the majority of them are not at this moment. Since before even my time at Hogwarts, there have been groups trying to ban more and more. Unfortunately, they have been successful in removing it from the Hogwarts curriculum, but Dark families, as I said last time, have been able to pass on the knowledge to their children. They would still continue to do so even if the Ministry managed to ban it, but it should not have to come to that.”

 

Tom paused, as if considering what to explain next.

 

“As you have noticed from your prior sources, the Dark Arts here are vocally scorned. The Ministry has reflected that here, but the way our Ministry views the Dark Arts is not the same as other governments. Have you heard of the wizarding school Durmstrang?”

 

“No. I haven’t heard of any other wizarding schools before.” He hadn’t even _thought_ about there being others. There had to be, obviously. The wizarding community was smaller than the muggle one, but not small enough for all wizarding children to be taught in one school.

 

“Durmstrang is a wizarding school that teaches everything Hogwarts does, with the addition of Dark Magic.”

 

“Really? Everybody there learns it?”

 

“Yes, Harry. Don’t sound so surprised.” Tom grinned, “Honestly, the Dark Arts encompass more parts of magic than you are aware. Do you know any hexes or jinxes, Harry?”

 

“Oh, yeah, a few.”

 

“Those fall into the category of Dark Magic, though not as dark as curses.” Tom continued, “Those are not banned in Hogwarts, are they?”

 

“No, they’re not.” Harry agreed, thinking it over, “Sometimes people get detentions, but it’s not because of the _type_ of magic, is it? It’s not always a hex or jinx that has caused harm. Other types of magic can be harmful, too. So... It’s because they were doing magic in the halls where they’re not supposed to, or they harmed someone that a detention is earned, not because of dark magic?”

 

Tom looked pleased at that bit of reasoning and Harry smiled, this wasn’t going so bad after all.

 

“Tom? If jinxes and hexes are actually Dark Arts, then why…?” Harry started, unsure how to phrase his question.

 

“Why do the Dark Arts have a negative connotation?” Tom supplied.

 

“Yeah. I mean, no one really says anything bad about those kinds of things, but whenever I heard talk of the Dark Arts before it was always like they should be avoided.”

 

“Light wizards like to ignore the fact that hexes and jinxes fall into that category.” Tom said, clearly annoyed by it, “They are fine with the lower levels of Dark Magic, because they are not only milder in terms of harm, but because they are less addictive. Those with weak wills can not succeed in learning the Dark Arts. So, we will start with only a few small ones to get you started and keep you from being overwhelmed.”

 

He paused there for a few minutes, letting Harry absorb that information.

 

“Ready for your first spell?”

 

“Er, yes, if you think I am.”

 

“I do. Now this spell I want to show you is not terribly powerful, but it will be a good start for you. Your intent will be important with the control of this one. Have you ever heard of the spell, _Incendio_?”

 

Harry shook his head. “No, I haven’t. Is it a fire spell, though?” He asked, thinking on the very minimal amount of Latin that Tom had been able to get him to learn.

 

“Yes, very good, Harry.” Tom praised. Pleased, Harry made a mental note to look into more Latin words in his spare time to impress Tom. “The spell _Incendio_ creates fire. It can be modified to different colors of fire, but is mainly used to light a hearth. The spell I want to teach you is similar, yet opposite.”

 

The older Slytherin conjured a dummy in front of him. “This spell creates a flame that freezes a person or object instead of burning them. Now, watch.”

 

Tom swished his wand and spoke clearly, “ _Frigoris Excandesco!”_

 

Flames burst from his wand to cover the top of the dummy. To Harry’s surprise they looked like normal yellow and red flames. Tom waved a hand over the flames as if to feel their temperature.

 

“You can’t feel the difference in the temperature of the flames in the diary, unfortunately.” He vanished the flames, and the dummy was left with a coating of sparkling frost where they had been. “But, as you can see, they leave behind frost. It is up to the will of the caster the degree of cold the flames reach. On a person, frost burn can occur when the flames are made cold enough.”

 

He recast the spell and the dummy was covered with the deceptively bright flames again. “It can be useful in battle if your opponent is unfamiliar with the spell. If you were confronted with fire, Harry, what would you do to put it out?”

 

“Er, douse it with water?” Harry suggested.

 

“ _Aguamenti!”_ Tom cast, a spray of water flowing from his wand this time. The flames, did disappear on the dummy, however, it was now encased in thick sheets of ice.

 

“Ah.” Harry breathed, amazed. “So, it could slow up an opponent if they countered it that way without thinking. They’d have to waste more time to get rid of the ice, then, too.”

 

“Right. There are other ways you can make this spell useful. Since you control, through force of will, the intensity of the flames, you can even make them small enough so as not to be seen. If you can combine that with a wordless incantation, you can drop the temperature around you.” The handsome Slytherin smirked, “It makes for an effective way to intimidate when needed.”

“Uh, what?” Harry was confused. But, his mind quickly reminded him with what Tom had told him about his early years at Hogwarts. His friend must have needed to be intimidating when he could in order to protect himself. “I, well, I’m fine with you using doing that, Tom, really. I get it, but I’m not sure why I would.”

 

Tom grinned down at him as he leaned against a desk.

 

“I love that you have been encouraging Slytherin house to believe you are Slytherin’s Heir, but do you think they will all just continue to accept that? Someone will step up and challenge your claim sooner or later, especially if there are not any more attacks. I want you to be prepared.”

 

Oh.

 

He hadn’t thought about that. Sure, hissing at them worked now, but Tom was right. That couldn’t last forever. He wanted to accuse Tom of putting him in this situation, but it was Harry himself that had come up with the idea in the first place.

 

He’d have to seriously think on what he would do if he was confronted about that.

 

Tom continued the lesson with two more spells, having Harry imitate the wand movements and practicing speaking the incantations aloud. None of them seemed _Dark,_ at least not in the way Harry imagined. Tom assured him that they were, as they all depended heavily on the will of the caster. He’d also said that Harry would be able to feel the difference in the type of magic when he practiced it outside the diary.

“So the these are the kinds of spells that the others are taught by their families?” He asked after Tom was satisfied with the last spell.

 

“These are all basic spells for Dark Arts.” Tom explained, “The others will know these, yes. It is likely however, that they will know more. Remember how I said spells are passed down in families? They need to do that now for all Dark Arts since Hogwarts will not, but families have always had magics important to their own that they have passed down. The older families, especially, will have magics that they keep secret for themselves.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Some of them were created by members of the family, and they want to keep it for themselves, or other trusted allies. In some cases, the magic can only be performed by those of their blood, due to abilities passed on in the line.”

 

“Abilities like what?”

 

“You know one of them. Think about it, Harry.” He encouraged.

 

“Parseltongue?” Harry asked.

 

“Yes.”

 

“So there are spells… in the snake language? Or is it because they involve snakes?” Harry was fascinated by the idea.

 

“Both. That can go for other spells, too. In the duel you told me about, Draco used _serpensortia,_ correct?”

 

“Yeah, Snape showed him that.”

 

“It is an easy spell that anyone can use, but it is most effective for those who speak parseltongue. It did not work to his advantage, since he can not control a snake. It could easily have turned on him if the duel had continued, even if he were to use it against someone that does not possess the parseltongue ability.”

 

“That.. that kind of magic would be great.” Harry thought aloud. He’d grown more comfortable with the fact that he had the skill. He was curious to find out the types of spells the Slytherin line had passed down. Not that his desire would matter, he thought a bit disappointingly. “I don’t much think whoever Slytherin’s Heir is would want to share that with me.”

 

“You never know.” Tom said wryly.

 

Harry wanted to question what he meant by that, but Tom brought the lesson back on track with, “Now, try the pronunciation and the wand movement one more time for each. Then I want you to try it outside of the diary.”

 

-

 

Tom did not have to wait long to hear back from Harry once he left the diary to practice his new spells. Harry wrote back quickly, excited to share news of his success in pulling off all three new spells.

 

Tom had been truthful in his descriptions of the Dark Arts, even if he had omitted some parts, or kept himself from going too far into detail. Harry was already wary, so he had not wanted to scare him off.

 

Really, the only major aspect he had kept from saying was just how addicting the Dark Arts could be. It was not something that Harry had to worry about anyway, not with Tom there to guide him. Tom would keep him from going too far too fast. Harry had already asked for another spell after the first ones went so well. Tom would be careful with him. He did not want to have Harry get in over his head, so he told him he would have another lesson in a week or so.

 

He would gradually introduce the boy into better and more powerful parts of magic. Branches of magic that should not have been pushed aside in fear by wizards like Dumbledore.

 

From what Harry told him of his day to day, it appeared that Dumbledore was observing Harry. Tom had no idea what Dumbledore thought exactly, but it was worrying all the same. The amount of attention the Headmaster was giving Harry was more than he was giving any other student. It reminded him of how he watched Tom when he was a student.

 

Dumbledore knew that Tom was the Heir of Slytherin. He did not know that Tom was around  right now, or at least Tom hoped he did not have any idea. If he did, Dumbledore would have done something. So did Dumbledore think Harry had something to do with the opening of the Chamber? Or was it just his general distrust of Slytherins that was showing right now?

 

That was concerning, but the most pressing matter at the moment was that he still had yet to tell Harry of his identity as Lord Voldemort.

 

It was unlike him to be so hesitant. It was also unlike him to feel so uncertain about anything.

 

He was, though. He was unsure how Harry would react to finding out so he was _hesitating_. He should have told him already. The longer he waited the worse it would be and the greater the chance that Harry would find out from someone else. Someone like Dumbledore.

 

That was something he could not let happen.

 

He would tell him. Soon.

 

If Harry did not react well, he would be prepared. As much as he enjoyed Harry’s company he could not allow for the diary to come to harm.

 

-

 

Albus thought that the Dark Lord had created Horcruxes. Severus was disgusted. He was not entirely shocked, however. It was something that he had no trouble believing that the Dark Lord would do.

 

It explained so much. It was why Dumbledore was so set on saying that the Dark Lord would return one day. If it was true that he had created them, which he no had no doubt that he did, then it was true that the Dark Lord _would_ return. He would always be able to come back as long as his horcruxes remained intact.

 

The Headmaster wanted his help with the matter now. Severus would gladly destroy any part of the Dark Lord he could. He loathed the monster after he had killed Lily.

 

So when Albus told him about the Horcruxes, his mind was already running through what he would do. Where he could find the information he needed. Incredibly ready to start picking off the Dark Lord’s soul containers one by one.

 

Until Albus revealed that Harry Potter was one of those containers.

 

He hated the brat that looked just like James Potter. He had only recently begun to grudgingly admit to himself that the boy _might_ not be exactly like his father. That did not mean he liked the boy. Absolutely not. He did not know if he had it in him to kill off a child, even one he wasn’t fond of.

 

That wasn’t truly the problem.

 

The problem was that he had sworn to protect the boy. He had sworn this to _Dumbledore!_ Did the old man forget that? What did he expect Severus to do?

 

Severus was supposed to protect Harry and now Albus was all but saying that Harry would need to die. Honestly, Severus was unsure if the vow he took would allow him to do anything even if the boy was possessed and he told the Headmaster as much.

 

The old man had simply smiled at him and asked if he could look for a way to remove the Horcrux from Harry safely while he focused his attention on other parts.

 

Severus had reluctantly obliged, even if he knew it was extremely unlikely that there was anyway of that being possible. He suspected that the old wizard knew it was most likely futile, too, even if he wanted to hope that it wasn’t.

 

He would do his best to find out if there was a way. That was the most desirable outcome. But, he would need to think on what he would do if it was as impossible as he thought. Because if it was impossible, then Harry’s life would be in danger from someone else.

 

Dumbledore would not doom the world just for one boy, Severus knew this. Oh, he knew that the old man would not want to, but he would. For the greater good. For the safety of the rest of the world, Dumbledore would determine that Potter would need to die.

 

Severus had a feeling that the vow wouldn’t allow him to just let that happen. So he had to be ready if that was the case.

 

-

 

Ruth Edwards had been working in the Department of Wizarding Children’s Welfare for several years.

 

It was a small department within the Ministry, which suited her just fine. There was not much of a need for people in her area because abuse of magical children wasn’t common. So, yes, she was glad that it was a small department. If it were bigger that would only be because there was a need for it, and so she was grateful there wasn’t.

 

As a result of it being such a small department, she rarely saw any of the higher ups of the ministry. Because of that, when the Minister of Magic himself walked into her office one morning with Lord Malfoy she had expected them to have somehow have made a mistake.

 

Unfortunately it was not.

 

Fudge had informed her that she would be focusing completely on a new case per Lord Malfoy’s request. It was exceedingly important and needed to be kept as quiet as possible. Quiet enough that even the Minister was unaware of who the child in question was. He wasn’t keen to be kept out of the loop, but Lord Malfoy had calmed his doubts with the promise of him being the first to know the whole story when the case was over.

 

Only when the Minister had left and silencing wards had been placed had the Lord revealed who she would be helping.

 

“You will be investigating the home life of Harry Potter.” He had told her, “He has asked me, through my son, to have this matter looked into.”

 

She had been shocked, obviously.

 

The boy-who-lived unhappy with his home life? And then Lord Malfoy had continued with the information that the boy believed that someone in power at the school was forcing him to stay at that home.

 

Professors had no power over such things. It was not their call as to who a student of theirs lived with. If the boy had gone to someone in the school with concerns about his homelife, those concerns had _not_ been reported.

 

The case of looking into possible abuse in Harry Potter’s home life was unexpected. She didn’t want to believe that any child could be harmed by their own families, but it _did_ happen.

 

Ruth wasted no time in starting the investigation. The moment Lord Malfoy left her to her new task, she went to work.

 

The first sign that something was wrong showed up far sooner into the investigation than any before. Harry Potter’s home address was not listed in any Ministry records. Or, it was, but not updated. It still listed Godric’s Hollow. The entire wizarding world knew that the boy did not live there anymore.

 

The next worrisome sign was that Harry’s file lacked any information on who his guardians were. There was nothing. No names, no information as on how to contact them.

 

From the little information Lord Malfoy had given, the only clue she had was that the Potter boy lived with Muggles. Muggle records were harder to get a hold of, so unfortunately, it took longer than she hoped to track down where Harry Potter grew up. It would have been so much easier to ask around, but the case needed to be kept quiet. If someone had wrongfully taken the boy then she didn’t want to alert them to her search and give them time to prepare a defense.

 

She eventually came up with Vernon and Petunia Dursley. Petunia was the sister of Lily Potter, so this had been a relief. The boy was with relatives after all, and not strangers.

 

Still, that did not mean they treated the boy right and that was what she had been asked to investigate in the first place. It could be a case of the Muggles not knowing how to handle a magical child. It was far from the first time that had happened.

 

Ruth was not often in the muggle world, but she knew enough to blend in. She dressed in Muggle styles and with an address finally at hand she made her way to the village of Little Whinging.

 

At first glance, the house was nice. It looked like every other house on the street, but it was nice. It was not the kind of place she would have expected the boy-who-lived to grow up in. Nor was it the kind of place she would want to live, but she was glad to see it and finally get some answers.

 

A woman answered the door. Hopefully this would be Harry’s Aunt Petunia. “Hello. Can I help you?” She seemed pleasant enough. Slightly suspicious, but that was to be expected when a stranger showed up at your door.

 

“Good afternoon. My name is Ruth Edwards, I am here to inquire about your nephew, Harry Potter.”

 

“Oh!” The woman’s demeanor changed completely. She narrowed her eyes, “Are you one of _them?_ The boy is off at school, I don’t want to deal with your nonsense now.”

 

“I am sorry, but this should not take long. May I come in?”

 

“I’d rather you didn’t. You can leave, the boy himself brings us enough problems.”

 

The woman started to shut the door and Ruth quickly spoke, “If that is what you wish. However, my questions will have to be answered eventually. So if you rather me come back another time…?”

 

She paused, as Ruth hoped. Petunia looked around quickly at the surrounding houses, like she thought others were watching before looking back to her and coming to a decision.

 

“Fine! Just get this over with and leave.” She stepped back to allow her entrance.

 

The house looked quite normal inside, she noted as she was led to a sofa in the house’s living room. The woman took a seat opposite of her in a chair.

 

“Well?” She sneered, “Get on with it, then. I want this over before Vernon gets home.”

 

“Alright.” She pulled out her notes and a self-inking quill. She would keep her own demeanor pleasant in the hopes that it would calm the other woman down,  “You are Mrs Petunia Dursley, correct?” The woman, Petunia, nodded. “Great, then you are related by blood to Harry Potter through your sister Lily Potter, yes?” Another nod. Good.

 

“How did you come to have Harry in your care?”

 

“ _He_ left him here on our doorstep. I found the boy the next morning with a note! We were lucky that the neighbors didn’t see him before we could bring him in!”

 

Someone left a baby on a doorstep. _Overnight?_ The Potters were murdered on the last day in October. Had they left him on a doorstep overnight in November? Even if they layered the babe with heating charms and wards to protect from animals, that was unacceptable. She scribbled down that alarming news, but kept her outward appearance calm. She also made a note of the fact that Petunia seemed more concerned about the neighbors opinions than the safety of a baby Harry.

 

“So you did not request to have Harry brought to you? Who was it that dropped him off?” She was proud of herself from not sounding desperate to know who it was that left the boy here. _On a doorstep!_

 

“Of course not! We are a perfectly _normal_ family, we most certainly did not want that freakishness infecting our home! If we could have we would have dropped the boy off with anyone else. But, no, Dumbledore insisted in the letter he left. For our safety and the brat’s we had to keep him.”

 

Dumbledore. Surely not.

 

“Albus Dumbledore?” Disbelief crept into her voice that time.

 

“Yes. He runs that school the boy goes to.”

 

“I see. Do you still have this letter that he left you?”

 

“No, got rid of that as soon as I could. Probably just as fast as that man dropped the boy here ad left.” Petunia huffed, Then, she narrowed her eyes again and looked nervous, “What is the point of these questions? No one has bothered us before, other than when he sent someone to bring the boy to school.”

 

“No… no one came and asked you about the boy before then? Not even Professor Dumbledore?” Ruth questioned, scribbling away at her notes.

 

“No. That was it, he left the brat here and then ten years later he sends some giant to bust down the door to take the boy to get his things before his first year at that school.” Petunia said bitterly, “So why are you here?”

 

She’d tell her part of the truth to keep her calm and answering her questions.

 

“There should have been people coming to check in on the boy over the years, but Harry Potter’s records are suspiciously blank.” Harry’s aunt seemed displeased with Dumbledore, so she would use that and continued, “Albus Dumbledore should not have had any control over where he sent your nephew, Mrs Dursley. I’ll be looking into why that happened.”

 

Petunia looked relieved at that, but only for a moment. “You won’t be telling Dumbledore that I spoke to you, will you? He insisted, and-”

 

“Not to worry. This is confidential, so he will not be informed about anything you say here. Is there anything else you wanted to tell me about him?” She assured. She noted down that Petunia was worried about what Dumbledore thought. Had he threatened these muggles into taking Harry?

 

Why in the world would he need to do that? There were plenty of families that would have gladly taken the boy in. There would not have been any need to force someone unwilling to take care of him.

 

Even if they did not want him, there was no justifying how she was beginning to suspect they treated Harry.  

 

“No, there’s nothing. Other than the note he left, he has not been been in contact.” She sniped, “Is.. If the boy wasn’t supposed to end up here, will you be able to place him elsewhere? If we don’t have to live with him, we won’t.”

 

Ruth could agree with that. She certainly did not want Harry Potter to live with these muggles any longer. She’d be making sure that wouldn’t happen, she thought with a smile, “I will be looking into other arrangements, now that I am aware. Now, I don’t want to take up much more of your time. If you would just give me a tour of the house, I’ll be out of your way.”

 

“What? Why should I need to do that?” Petunia was back to being defensive.

 

“I need to check to see if the home is suitable for a magical child. I thought similar checks were done in your world in the case of adoptions. This is something that would have normally been done before you took in the child. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case, so I’ll be doing that now.”

 

She stood. She would document every single bit of evidence she could find, no matter how small. She would do that with or without the Muggle woman’s approval. Harry Potter would not be returning to this house. She would make sure there was no chance of that happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was planning on a Lucius POV, but he doesn’t get to see too much of what’s going on. So instead we get a ministry worker that will rarely be seen again. Lucius will show up more later instead.
> 
> Pardon my made up spell, I am so not creative with that kind of thing. I’ll probably just gloss over anymore spells in the future.  
> The two Latin words I used supposedly are:  
> Frigoris meaning: cold, frost  
> Excandesco meaning: blaze, catch fire
> 
> Thank you online Latin dictionaries! 
> 
> Thanks for all the suggestions for the quidditch thing! It was supposed to be a minor part, but the next chapter will probably have that all come into play.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fixed mistakes in two of the previous chapters. I know there are things I missed, but I fixed two glaring mistakes that were bothering me the most. I didn’t really want to re-read all of this to find the others. I’ll try to catch them before I post from now on. That might be just wishful thinking though, because I normally finish these chapters late at night. Why do I feel the most motivated to write when it’s close to midnight?? (Or later)
> 
> That said, there's probably something I missed in this one even though I read through it as closely as I could. lol

Breakfast the morning before the Slytherin and Ravenclaw match was lively.

The whole school was always excited for any of the Quidditch matches, no matter the teams playing. With there only being a few matches a year, each one was all the more anticipated.

On a usual morning, there would still be some students that hadn’t arrived at this time for breakfast. Those that liked to sleep in on their weekends would show up last minute, or not at all. Today the tables were full of excited students. Even Ron was already up, Harry noticed. 

He looked tired, slumped in his seat at the Gryffindor table. Ron was never a morning person, Harry remembered fondly. Before Ron could catch him staring, Harry looked back to his own meal. 

As expected, word had gotten back to the red-headed boy about Harry’s talk with Ginny in the library. Harry hadn’t done anything wrong. He was only trying to help Ginny, but Ron didn’t think the same. It didn’t help that Ernie was most likely the one who told Ron about what had happened. Ernie hated Harry so he could imagine what the boy had told Ron, and it wasn’t good. 

Well, at this point, it didn’t matter what Harry did. Ron would be angry no matter what.

So, Ron was mad and he told Harry as much. Loudly. He picked the first chance he could to get his feelings on the matter across. Unfortunately for him, that moment was right before potions.

Unsurprisingly, Snape had appeared and took points away from Gryffindor for causing a ‘disturbance in the halls’. So Ron was even angrier, and Harry was doing his best to stay out of his way in the hopes that the other boy would calm down eventually.

“Could you pass me that pitcher, Harry?” Draco brought him out of his thoughts with the request. 

Harry hummed in agreement and passed what he wanted over. Draco poured another glass of juice for himself and set the pitcher down between their plates.

Draco’s appetite didn’t appear to be affected by nerves Harry noticed as he watched the boy eating quickly, but not sloppily like Ron. “You don’t get nervous before a match?” 

“Should I?” Draco asked.

“No, I suppose not.” Harry said, amused. “I was nervous before my first match, but each one got easier.”

Draco gave him a weird look at that. He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Flint clapped him on the shoulder, making him jump. The rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team was behind him already finished with their meals.

Flint caught Harry’s eye, but didn’t say anything. The older Slytherin hadn’t spoken to him since Harry had hinted at being the Heir. He wondered what he thought about it. Harry should probably give more thought to what Tom had said about the Slytherins starting to doubt him without further proof, but for now things were still alright.

Flint finally addressed Draco, “Malfoy, we’re heading down now. We will be reviewing our strategy before the game. Are you ready?”

“Yes! I’m ready!” Draco stood up, downed the last of his juice and followed after. 

“Good luck!” Harry called out with a small wave as they walked away. 

He looked around the table. Crabbe and Goyle were nearby, but they rarely talked to anyone other than each other, and even then it wasn’t much. They wouldn’t care if he was busy writing. It was likely that they wouldn’t even notice. It was a good time to write to Tom. Harry took the last few bites of his breakfast and pushed his plate back to clear a space.

He pulled the diary out of his bag and placed it into the open space. He dug through his bag for a quill and ink just as the pitcher of juice exploded. 

Harry sat there in stunned silence for a moment, covered in juice and bits of ceramic. His eyes caught the diary sitting in front of him covered in the same and he sprung into motion.

“Shite!” Harry cursed. He shook off the ceramic shards from the diary and used the dry parts of his sleeves to clean it of the sticky juice.

“What happened?” Crabbe asked, bewildered. He passed him some cloth napkins that had been out of reach of the sticky liquid.

Harry took the fresh napkins gratefully and cleaned the diary the rest of the way. He’d acted fast enough that the pages hadn’t been soaked and he breathed out a sigh of relief. He shouldn’t have been so freaked out, he thought ashamedly, after all, he found the diary in a much worse state. Clearly the diary was durable. 

“I don’t know, I didn’t even touch the thing and it shattered!” He replied, finally satisfied with the state of the diary again. He put it back in his bag, even though he still wanted to talk with Tom. It didn’t feel right having the diary out in the open anymore with so many people glancing his way trying to see what happened.

“I think Weasley had something to do with it.” Goyle said from beside him, staring across the hall at the Gryffindor table.

Harry looked and sure enough Ron looked to have been calming down from laughing at his expense. He grinned over at Harry and Harry scowled back, not amused at all. 

To calm himself down, Harry had to remind himself that Ron wasn’t aiming to damage the diary. He didn’t know what the diary was worth. It was difficult, though, as he was still coming down from his slight panic. 

Ron didn’t know. It wasn’t on purpose. He took a deep breath through his nose. Tom is fine. He thought to himself, trying and failing to not be angry at his old friend.

“I’ll meet you at the pitch.” He said to Crabbe and Goyle as he grabbed his things and stood to leave. He’d need to change into dry clothes before going outside. 

His mood was soured after thinking Tom was in danger, but he knew he couldn’t skip the game. Draco might not say anything, but Harry wasn’t going to upset him by not cheering him on when that could easily be avoided.

He hurried his steps to the Slytherin dorms. No, he did not want to deal with a disappointed Draco. He would not be late to the game.

And later, maybe he’d think of a way to get back at Ron.

-

I wish Tom had taught me a warming spell instead. Harry thought as he shivered in his seat in the Slytherin Quidditch box. Tom’s diary was tucked into a pocket in his robes, he’d left his bag in the dorms. He didn’t like to leave Tom behind, even if he didn’t have the opportunity to write to him.

Since he had needed to run to make it to the pitch on time, he was comfortably warm for the start of the match. The longer the game drew on, however, the colder he felt. The few basic warming charms that he knew did little with the wind blowing like it was. 

Hopefully the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff match will be on a warmer day. Harry thought. He adjusted his green scarf to cover a little more of his face. Oh, and the Gryffindor tryouts, too. 

Those days should be warmer, even just by a little bit. Maybe not the tryouts, as that was only a few days away from what Draco had told him, but for the next Quidditch match, which was still two weeks away. It was the second to last day in February already, and March would slowly bring warmer temperatures as they neared springtime. 

While watching Quidditch was exciting, it was a little less enjoyable with no one to talk to. He wasn’t alone where he sat, Crabbe and Goyle sat next to him, but he found himself missing Draco’s presence. 

That was odd, because they weren’t truly friends. But, they might be on their way to becoming real friends, and that was good. At least on Harry’s end they were. Thinking on how Draco acted around him, he probably wanted a real friendship, too.

Harry remembered back before he was re-sorted that he thought Draco must enjoy just hearing himself talk. After all, Crabbe and Goyle didn’t do much talking, so that it was no wonder that the three of them got along. 

Now, Harry saw it differently. 

While it still might be true that Draco liked being the center of attention, yeah, he definitely did, he might not have any other choice but to fill the silence. The blonde’s friendship with the other two Slytherins could have started out much like Harry’s had with him. Just for appearances. 

So, maybe Draco was glad to have Harry as a friend for more than just popularity. Harry smiled behind his scarf as he followed Draco’s movement on his broom above the pitch. He was circling around, still looking for the snitch.

The Ravenclaw seeker had supposedly seen the elusive ball earlier in the game when she had taken off in a burst of speed. Draco had followed close after, but nothing had come of it. The Slytherin beaters had managed to distract her with a bludger in her direction, causing her to veer off course. Draco must not have ever had an eye on it to begin with, because he’d gone back to circling the pitch once the other seeker didn’t appear to be on the snitch’s trail any longer.

The snitch might not have even been there at all, Harry suspected. She might have just been looking to make a distraction. If she had, it worked. While the Slytherin beaters had been occupied with attempting to knock her clear off her broom, the Ravenclaw chasers had managed to get another two goals.

Slytherin was behind by 30 points, so if Draco caught the snitch, Harry knew the boy would feel all the more victorious. He hoped he would. This was only the second match of the year for Slytherin, and Draco’s second match ever. 

Harry watched with dismay as a blue-clad player hurled the quaffle past the Slytherin’s keeper. Lee Jordan’s excited voice rose above the exited cheers of the other three houses, calling out his commentary.

“Wonderful shot by Davies! That’s another ten points to Ravenclaw! That brings the score to 70 for Ravenclaw and still only 30 for the dirty ,cheating-” 

McGonagall was quick to cut him off with a reprimand as usual, but Harry didn’t find it as amusing anymore. Lee was good at keeping up with the plays, but he couldn’t keep bias out for more than a few minutes.

Maybe it would be different if he had been sorted into Slytherin from the beginning, maybe he wouldn’t care as much. He would have grown used to the distrust of the rest of the student body like the rest of his house seemed to have. But he didn’t and it was frustrating to see. He was ashamed to have ever been a part of it.

“Yikes! Looks like Malfoy might have spotted the golden snitch!” Lee’s voice rang loud and clear again. Harry’s eyes quickly found Draco speeding lower and lower, nearer to the ground than the rest of the players. “Chang follows close behind! You’ve got this, girl!”

Chang immediately sped off from where she had been hovering, descending quickly to where Draco was. Harry leaned forward in his seat, trying to focus on the slight glimmer that was the snitch. The snitch must have changed direction, because Draco turned sharply to the left and started ascending after it.

Harry tuned out Lee’s words of encouragement for the Ravenclaw seeker as she slowly caught up. “Almost there! Don’t let him get-” She pulled up next to him, one hand outstretched ahead of her. 

Draco mirrored her pose and forced his broom just a little bit faster-

His hand curled around the snitch and the Slytherin box erupted into boisterous cheers. Lee’s wailing “Nooooo!” was nearly drowned out by the Slytherin’s voices and stomping on the benches. Harry found himself just as excited, adding his voice to the roar alongside them.

On his broom, Draco had slowed to a stop, looking at the snitch in his hand. He stared at the ball in amazed shock.

Even from afar, Harry could see the wide smile light up his face as the accomplishment sunk in. Draco turned, beaming, to look at Harry and the rest of the Slytherins in the stands. He let go of his broom with both hands, waving them in the air as his teammates swarmed him. 

Harry grinned and waved back.

Lee mumbled without any enthusiasm, “Malfoy catches the snitch and Slytherin wins with 170 points…” 

-

Harry ducked out of the celebration in the Slytherin Common Room as soon as he was able to without upsetting Draco. To Harry’s surprise, he had been enjoying himself, too. He would have gladly stayed with the rest of the house longer, but he’d been so antsy to talk to Tom after the little scare this morning. 

So, earlier than anyone else, he headed for the dorms. It wasn’t as soon as he would have liked, but it was still early enough in the night that he would have a decent amount of time to talk to Tom before the older boy told him to go to sleep.

“Harry, I must admit, I am quite relieved to see you.” Tom said from his usual seat in the diary’s version of the common room. It was a little disorienting seeing the common room empty except for Tom after leaving the same room in the real world packed full of joyous Slytherins.

“Ah, sorry about that, Tom. I wanted to write to you earlier, but there wasn’t a good time.” Harry apologized as he took his seat, “We won the Quidditch match today so there was a party in the common room and I didn’t want to leave too early.”

“Not about that. I know you might not be able to talk to me often during the day, as unfortunate as that is. I was wondering about what happened earlier. You are normally so careful with my diary. What happened this morning?” Tom inquired. Harry noted with relief that the other boy didn’t look upset, only curious.

“Oh!” Harry had calmed down a lot since this morning. The excitement of his house winning in Quidditch managed to distract him from his earlier ire, but now that he was thinking on it again it all came back. 

“Remember how I told you Ron found out about me talking with his sister? And how he lost points for Gryffindor because he decided to confront me about the whole thing in front of Snape?” Tom hummed in agreement. “Well, I guess he was angrier than I thought. He blasted the pitcher next to me at breakfast this morning.”

Tom’s eyes widened slightly and he looked at him more intensely at that. “Were you injured?”

“No, I was fine. Just soaked.” Harry reassured him, “Your diary was close to it, though. So… you felt that? I tried to clean it up as fast as I could.”

“I knew something had happened, but not what exactly.” Tom frowned slightly.

“You.. you’re not hurt, right? I thought you might have been at first and I was a little freaked out.” Harry admitted. He wasn’t going to tell Tom just how freaked out he’d been, but he could admit to a little worry for his friend.

“I am unharmed. It would take some serious magic to really hurt my diary. I appreciate your concern, though, love.” 

“T-that’s good. I’m glad.” Internally, he cursed his minor stutter and fought down a blush, “Even if you’re fine, I’m still mad at Ron for that. I want to get back at him, but at the same time I don’t want to start anything. As mad as he’s been with me since I became a Slytherin, he’s been mostly quiet about it. I don’t want to be constantly on the lookout for him.”

“I would not worry so much about his retaliation. As Slytherin’s Heir you have the protection of our house, remember?” Tom looked at ease again, a small grin on his face. He propped his elbow on the armrest and leaned his chin on a hand.

Harry sighed, annoyed. Tom always sounded so pleased whenever that was brought up. Harry still worried over what the actual Heir thought, but Tom always reassured him somehow. It was like Tom knew who it was, but that wasn’t possible. 

Tom was brilliant, Harry knew, but even he wouldn’t be able to figure out who it was when he was inside a diary. 

Harry had thought about it and it couldn’t have been the last person to have the diary either. If they were the Heir, it would make sense as to why Tom knew, but Tom never sounded fond of whoever that last person was. Not that he ever talked about them directly.

Tom didn’t let him get too lost in thought. “Since he was so bold to attack you in the middle of the great hall, you should really do something. Even if you want to hide the fact from him that it was you.”

“Yeah, but I can’t think of anything. I’ve no idea what to do.”

“How about your next Dark Arts lesson?”

“Yeah? It’s not too soon since the last one?” He sat up straighter in his seat.

“I think you have been handling it very well. Besides, what I have in mind is pretty tame.” Tom rose from his seat, “Despite its simplicity, I think it will be effective against the Gryffindor all the same, based on what you have shared with me about him.” 

Harry nodded eagerly gazing up at him.

“I have an idea with a combination of spells.” Tom said, “The first one is not a dark spell, and once again is similar to another spell you are already familiar with. Do you remember the incantation for the snake summoning spell Draco used in your duel?”

“Serpensortia?” 

“Yes, that one. That spell is made up of two words, the first half you can easily guess, meaning ‘snake’. The second, has to do with ‘to be born’ or ‘source’.”

Harry nodded in understanding, but something in the way Tom explained it brought up another question. “Tom?”

“Yes?”

“Are the snakes in that spell created by it? Or are they pulled from somewhere else?”

“They are created by the spell. It will create a snake to fit with what the wizard casting the spell wants. If you want a certain kind of snake, the spell is easy to control by picturing clearly the image of the snake you want in your mind as you cast. It will not work for a vague image, nor will it work for a snake that doesn’t exist. Magical varieties of snakes cannot be created with this spell, either.”

“Okay… So the new spell… is it to summon a different animal?”

“It will summon something different, yes. But not an animal. Have you come across the word asterion in your studies, yet?”

Harry took a moment to think about it, but nothing came to mind, unfortunately. “No. It doesn’t sound familiar.” 

“It means ‘spider’.”

“Awesome.” Harry breathed. He could see where this was going, Ron was terrified of spiders. Just picturing the red-head’s reaction made him feel better already. “Do you just replace the ‘serpens’ in the incantation with ‘asterion’?”

“Yes. It is as simple as that. Asterionortia.”

The only problem was that Harry didn’t want Ron to know it was him. Sure, he was mad at Ron for putting Tom in danger, albeit unknowingly. Still, that didn’t mean he wanted to start something publicly. Harry would feel better after this and he could put Ron out of his mind again.

That wouldn’t happen if Ron knew it was him and retaliated. With this spell, he wasn’t sure how that would work.

“You said before about how the Serpensortia spell is most useful to parselmouths, because they can talk to snakes. That, for people without the ability the snake might not do what they want.” Tom nodded, and Harry continued, “Is that different for Asterionortia? Because if I were to use the spell without Ron knowing it was me, I would have to be away from him and I don’t know how I’d get a spider, or spiders, to go to a specific person.” 

“That is where the second spell will come in.” Tom said with a sly grin that made Harry’s heart race, “This one is dark, so you’ll have to take care to not be noticed.”

-

The opportunity to use his new spells came sooner than Harry expected.

For the first time in… he wasn’t sure how long, Harry came across Ron in the library. To his benefit, Harry noticed him first and was able to quickly duck around a bookcase unseen. 

Harry peered through the shelf at the disgruntled Gryffindor. It was obvious to anyone nearby that he was there against his will. Hermione wasn’t in sight, but she had to be nearby. There was no way Ron would show up in the library without being dragged there. She must be waiting already at a table or on the hunt for her own books.

This was the perfect time. Harry grinned. 

He looked either way in the aisle he was in just to be sure no one was watching. It was clear.

Slipping his wand out of his pocket, he thought on the pronunciation that Tom taught him last night. He poked the wand through a gap in the books and whispered as clearly and quietly as he could. “Captocutios!”

There was no beam of light like some spells, and there was no visible difference to Ron. He knew it had worked, however, with the small bit of warmth he felt rushing through him, courtesy of the dark magic. 

What he had no way of knowing was how long the spell would remain active for. Tom had told him it would depend on how much power he put into it. With it being the first time trying out the spell he had no scale to judge it by, so he’d just have to watch and see. 

He didn’t mind that. It would be fun watching to see how long spiders would be drawn to the ginger. Harry muttered a few quiet “Asterionotia”s with various kinds of spiders as he walked down the aisle, still out of sight before he was satisfied and continued to find the resource he had been searching for.

It wasn’t until he had located the books he needed and returned to his table where Draco was seated working on his own assignment that he heard the results of his spellwork. 

“Ah! I think there’s something crawling on- bloody hell, DO YOU SEE THE SIZE OF THAT?” Ron hollered. 

There was scuffling and several loud slams followed by screams. Then a final bang, louder than the others, accompanied by a triumphant “Got it!” and a “Ron, no!” rang through the otherwise silent library.

Harry turned in his seat, regretting that he had been facing away to begin with. Sadly, he had picked his seat before he ran into Ron, so he couldn’t think of a good reason to switch without drawing suspicion from Draco. 

At least he’d been able to see Draco’s reaction as Ron’s surprise unfolded. His smile wasn’t as bright as when he caught the snitch yesterday, but it was still plenty bright. 

Harry was also appeased with being able to witness Madam Pince’s arrival at the scene. Giggles had broken out from the other students after the final slam, which Harry now came to figure out was Ron squishing one of the summoned spiders with a library book.

The stern librarian came to the same conclusion. Her eyes widened with appalled shock. “Just what do you think you are doing to the school’s books, Mr. Weasley?”

Ron, now terrified by a different being, spluttered through an excuse, “I- I, er, there was a massive sp-spider! It was huge!”

“And you just thought you’d take care of it by… defiling one of my books.” She seethed. The laughter picked up in volume slightly and she addressed the rest of those present, “Hush! If you cannot be quiet then you will leave!”

The laughter died, but the amusement stayed clear on everyone’s faces. Smiles hidden behind hands.

Ron continued to try and defend himself. He held the book up shakily to show the side that had caught the spider, “See it’s fine, no damage- oh, ew!” 

There was a sizable splat of bug guts on the cover of the poor book. Looks like one of the larger spiders had found its way over first Harry thought, amused, and stifled his own laughter with a hand.

Pince, unsurprisingly, was not amused. She closed the remaining distance between her and Ron and snatched the book out of his hands. “Out! Get out until you learn how to be respectful of these books!”

Nodding his head jerkily, Ron grabbed his belongings as quickly as he could manage. Although Pince was aiming her anger at Ron, Hermione, too, gathered her things to leave, her face red with embarrassment. 

Madam Pince muttered her displeasure with Ron’s behaviour under her breath as the two Gryffindors made their swift escape from the library. 

Harry shifted back in his seat to face the table and matched Draco’s smile with his own. “Did you see that?” The blonde whispered.

“Not as much as I would have liked to have seen.” Harry replied, just as quiet.

Draco’s smile widened, showing his teeth, “No, as he left. There was another spider on the back of his robes.”

Sure enough, seconds later another shriek echoed down the hall outside of the library. The laughter broke out again before Madam Pince called for silence, threatening to throw more people out of her library.

With one last smile, the two returned to their work.

Harry was satisfied with the results of the spells. Tom would be happy to hear his plan worked as well as he hoped. Or knew. Tom was too sure of himself to hope.

Now, Harry would just have to keep an eye on Ron to see how long the spell lasted. With luck the spell would last past today and keep the week interesting. Harry wouldn’t even need to do anything further. The spiders already around in the castle would follow Ron wherever he’d go.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t add to them. 

Just to keep it entertaining, he grabbed a book on varieties of spiders before he left. Wouldn’t want to bore his old friend with the same old spider every time, right?

-

For the second time in less than a week Harry found himself shivering in the Slytherin’s box at the Quidditch pitch. This was the first day the other house teams didn’t have their practices booked and the Gryffindor’s were able to hold their tryouts. 

A replacement seeker would need to be selected today if they wanted to have any chance in their upcoming match against Hufflepuff in a week and a half.

Draco sat next to him and as was becoming customary, Crabbe and Goyle sat on either side of them. The rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team was present a few rows up in the stands plus a few other students of all years.

On the pitch Harry could recognize some of the students lined up. There were a few from his year down there. Ron, of course being one of them, a school broom clutched in his hand. Parvati and Fay stood to one side of him along with one of Harry’s former roommates, Dean. 

There were maybe a dozen hopefuls lined up, and Harry watched as they all mounted their brooms with varying success. Wood was having them attempt different maneuvers on their brooms to start from the looks of things. 

Already, it was apparent that a few rarely made use of a broom despite their interest in the sport.

“Hufflepuff is going to destroy them in their match.” Draco said matter-of-factly as an older student Harry didn’t recognize turned in the air and promptly fell off his broom. 

“I know the last tryout went poorly, but Wood still should have picked someone then. At least they would have had more time to practice.”

They couldn’t hear what was being said down below, but the boy who fell off his broom must have been asked to leave already for he was walking away with his head bowed. That, or, he gave up on his own.

Two more students followed his departure within the next ten minutes, and Wood moved on to another part of his tryout. From the box beside him on the grass he pulled out a golden snitch and released it into the air. 

The remaining Gryffindors rose up to start searching for it a few minutes later at the Captain’s signal. 

A single bludger was released and the fear of being struck by the vicious ball had another student giving in.

“What’s up with Weasley now?” A student questioned from behind them.

“He’s been jumpy all week.” Draco replied over his shoulder to him, “Ever since he had that spider crawl over him in the library, right, Harry?”

“Yeah. I guess he’s had bad luck with them lately.” Harry said, trying not to sound proud of that fact. He watched as Ron flailed his arms about, trying to wipe off something on him.

The insect-attracting spell had worn off already, but Harry had tried out another on his unsuspecting former friend after that. This one kept giving him the sensation of walking through a spider web sporadically. It was more amusing to watch take effect than the first one.

However, it wasn’t meant to last as long, and should have already worn off well before the start of the tryouts. It might have, too. Ron just might be paranoid at this point after so many scares in the past few days.

The red head pulled himself back together in time to narrowly move out of the way of the loose bludger at least. 

Draco spoke up again, “You know, part of me wants him to make the team. Just so I can beat him at this.” He sounded like he couldn’t believe what he was saying.

Harry huffed out a laugh, “Well, if he does, you’ll still have to wait until next year for the next match against Gryffindor.”

The tryouts continued for another hour as the snitch remained unseen to all. More than a few times someone had been unable to dodge the bludger and they were down to four people remaining. Ron hadn’t had anymore little fits that looked like he was brushing off something, but he still had a hard time staying balanced on his broom, to the Slytherin’s amusement.

When Fay finally managed to find and catch the snitch Ron wasted no time in returning to the ground.

Flint humphed as he made his way down the stands to the stairs leading out of the box, gathering the attention of his own team and Harry, “Looks like they’ll be picking Dunbar. Not only did she catch the snitch, but she’s the only one who flew like she knew at least a little of what she was doing.”

Harry and Draco followed after, not close enough to hear the rest of the Slytherin Captain’s critique of the tryouts. By the time they made it down the winding staircase and out onto the grounds, Wood had officially ended the event. The gathered Gryffindors began making their way off the pitch.

Ready to be back in the warmth of the castle, Harry quickened his steps. 

Ron couldn’t be far behind them and he didn’t want to be stopped by him. Ron would already be worked up after not making the team and Harry had no desire to have another argument. Especially not in front of so many people.

Flint and the rest of the Slytherins that had come to watch hadn’t gotten too far ahead. If they could just catch up with that group, Ron wouldn’t dare say anything. 

Or, so he thought.

“Oi!” Harry ignored the yell. 

Draco hesitated, and Harry muttered, “Don’t bother. Let’s just get inside, I’m freezing.”

“Malfoy!” Ron hollered this time.

Oh, Ron wasn’t aiming to start something with Harry this time. Draco halted and Harry reluctantly waited beside him. 

“What is it Weasley?” Draco asked, smug smile in place, “I thought you’d want to hide away for a bit after that pitiful performance just now.”

Ron caught up to them, his breath visible as he huffed after running to catch up. “And who’s fault was that?” He snapped, face starting to redden.

Taken aback, Draco blinked at him, “Excuse me?”

“I know you did something! I’ve flown my whole life, Malfoy, there’s no way you didn’t do something to screw me up. I saw you staring.” Ron seethed at them. Hermione appeared at his side, also slightly out of breath. More of Harry’s former house trailed behind.

Draco scoffed at the idea, “Everyone was staring. And that was because you looked like you’ve never flown before, Weasley. We didn’t do anything, that was your own lack of talent showing.”

Ron’s face reddened even more as he fumed. “Liar!” 

Harry wondered if he should feel guilty right now. The spells that he’d used on the other boy had surely worn off before the start of the tryouts. But even though they had to have, he might still have been distracted by them even after.

Hermione grabbed his arm whispering to him in an attempt to calm him. He shook her off and bit out. “Just what did you do? Everyone knows you bought your way onto your own team, Malfoy. That, and your family is as evil and dark as they come, so I know you did something! What was it?”

“He didn’t do anything, Ron.” Harry cut in before Draco could start to retaliate, “Don’t blame others for your own mistakes.”

No, Harry decided, Ron gets nervous. It isn’t my fault that he failed. Even at his best, Fay would have out-flown him. She’s sure of herself and her ability, so the outcome would have been the same.

“You’re in on it, too, aren’t you? You’ve fit right in now with Slytherin, haven’t you, Harry?” Ron glared at him in disgust, “Bet you’ve been learning dark spells alongside the rest of your house. You’ll be expelled for that, you traitor!” Ginny pulled at her brother’s sleeve, panic clear on her face. Harry hadn’t noticed her until now.

Without stopping to think, Harry corrected with an annoyed sigh, “You can’t be expelled for that. The study of Dark Magic isn’t banned in Hogwarts.”

Ron sucked in a breath, looking alarmed. “You are… Merlin, you have been learning Dark magic.” his voice had quieted to a horrified near-whisper. He looked around for support from the crowd that had gathered, but only found the same disbelieving stare on everyone else’s face that he himself sported.

I can deny it, Harry thought to himself in the silence that followed. He hadn’t admitted to anything and he could easily deny that he had been doing just that. Deny that he had any interest in the subject and pretend that he hadn’t changed his opinions in that way.

But, he wasn’t doing anything wrong in practicing, in learning that branch of magic. 

Tom wasn’t ashamed that he was a Dark Wizard. While Harry wasn’t quite sure he was one, too, he wouldn’t be ashamed that he was learning. It wasn’t wrong to be one. What was wrong was Ron and others continuing to shun this branch of magic and forcing dark families to practice their magic in secret.

Harry glanced at Draco, to see him staring back, wary, but hopeful.

No, he decided. He wouldn’t hide that. “I’m interested in learning magic, whatever part of it that I can. Dark Magic is just another type of magic. Cursing students would get someone in trouble, yes, but the study of it isn’t banned.” He turned his gaze to his other friend, “Isn’t that right, Hermione?”

At her name, Hermione tensed. All eyes darted to her and she stuttered out hesitantly, “Oh, um, n-no the study of it isn’t, but Harry, you can’t seriously mean that. That- that you want to.”

“Why not, Hermione? You’re always so interested learning, why not this, too?” Harry tried to reason with her. If she knew it wasn’t banned, wouldn’t she have had some interest?

“Even if the study of it isn’t banned, the practice is! That has to be for a good reason Harry!” 

“Have you looked into it more than just that? Past the bare minimum?” 

“That’s enough, Harry. Maybe you don’t understand having been raised by muggles.” Ron spat and Harry tensed at the mention of his relatives, “Everyone knows Dark Magic is evil. Anyone that actually practices that foul magic will end up in Azkaban. It’s wrong to want to learn anything about that stuff.”

“Fine, fine.” He wasn’t going to get anywhere with this. “You know, Ron? You may have grown up in the magical world, unlike me. But, despite that, I don’t think you have any idea what the Dark Arts are like.”

Done with the conversation, Harry started walking to the castle once more. Draco following a few beats later.

Some of the Slytherins had stopped their own trek and had listened in on what had happened. Harry paid them no mind along with Ron who was still raving about his apparent faults, and strode past them.

Next to him Draco looked like he couldn’t find the words to say. When they were out of earshot of anyone else, Harry decided he would break the silence himself.

Harry grinned, looking over at his friend, “Can you keep a secret, Draco?”

“Yes, definitely.” He said immediately. 

“I may have been cursing Ron the past week.” Harry told him unashamedly, “I don’t think he would have made the team regardless, but he wasn’t wrong that he wasn’t at his best.”

“Merlin! You didn’t!” Draco breathed, astonished. “Bloody hell. I…”

They reached the doors to the castle and were hit by a welcoming blast of warm air. Harry sighed in relief. 

“Its… Well, I had this idea of what you were like. I thought I knew, but I didn’t. You’re not like I imagined at all. Even though we’ve been in the same school for more than a year, I feel like I’m just learning what you’re like.”

Harry grinned at him and bumped his shoulder as they headed for their common room, “Well, that’s what happens when you become friends, right? You learn more about each other.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t feel like I spent enough time on the Quidditch tryout scene, but the chapter was already nearing 500 words past my goal of 6k words. I vaguely remembered that quidditch was cancelled at some point but couldn’t remember when. Turns out it’s after Hermione is petrified, but there’s not much said about the matches. Honestly, I’ve no idea if Cho Chang or Roger Davies were on the team this year, but I didn’t want to just keep saying “Ravenclaw seeker” or stuff like that. Hahaha  
> Thanks again for all the suggestions on who would have tried out. I ended up really liking the idea of Fay making it, so she got it. :)
> 
> I hadn’t planned on anymore spells, it just happened. Once again, online Latin dictionaries are the best. And I don’t really know how the serpensortia spell works, just kinda going with whatever comes to mind.
> 
> Captocutios- a curse that makes the victim attract spiders and other insects.  
> Capto meaning ‘entice’  
> Cutio meaning ‘millipede’ or ‘small insect’ 
> 
> Asterionortis- A spell that creates spiders.  
> Asterion- meaning venomous spider


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m seriously blown away with how many people are reading this. I’m simultaneously excited and terrified to share each chapter. 
> 
> I didn’t make the 6k mark that I’ve been aiming for with each chapter, but it’s been too long since the last chapter already.

Once Draco had recovered from his shock, he dragged Harry back to their common room as fast as he could without running. There were only a few students present when they arrived, but it seemed for what he wanted to talk about even that was too many, because he asked,  “Harry, do you mind if we go to your room?”

 

Though it was phrased as a question, the way Draco said it wasn’t. Harry agreed anyway. “Er, that’s fine.” Harry took the lead the rest of the way. When they arrived, he sat down on the edge of his bed as Draco took to pacing the room.

 

Draco’s request was odd. The other boy preferred to be seen by the rest of the house, so they always stayed in the common room when they were together. 

 

Had he come off too strong with the friendship thing? He could have been wrong in thinking Draco wanted to be real friends. He hoped not, that would be embarrassing. He’d wait and see what he had to say, better to not embarrass himself further if that was the case. It couldn’t be the Dark Arts thing. That would only bother Ron, right? 

 

His patience was rewarded a few minutes later when the slightly older boy finally spoke, a bit breathless. “Do you realize what you’ve done?”

 

The blonde looked concerned and excited at the same time. Harry definitely did not know what he was talking about. “No?”

 

“You admitted to practicing the Dark Arts!” 

 

Oh, it was that. He thought Draco would be fine with that. Okay, they were definitely not on the same page, he was glad he waited to say anything. “Oh, well yeah. I didn’t intend to originally, but he was blaming you and I wasn’t thinking about what I was saying.”

 

“You don’t get it, Harry.” Draco took a step closer, looking as happy as he did when Harry had suggested friendship, but more, “ _ Harry Potter  _ practices the Dark Arts and he said so himself!”

 

“Okay?”

 

“Harryyyyy.” Draco extended his name in a frustrated whine. He sat down next to Harry on the bed and flopped down onto his back.

 

“I… did I do something wrong?” Harry asked hesitantly. Tom talked about the Dark Arts so freely with him, so he’d started to grow used to them. He hadn’t taken into consideration the differences in time, either. Tom had said that the dark arts were looked down upon even while he was in school, however long ago that was. Now, it was probably even worse and he’d just blurted it out to the whole school.

 

“Well, that depends on who you ask.” Draco said still lying down, “I mean, you saw the look on the Gryffindors’ faces. Most of the professors aren’t going to be happy about it, either. You’ll probably be watched closely by them now.”

 

“As if I wasn’t already.” Harry sighed. 

 

“Dumbledore, too. I don’t have to tell you just how outspoken he is about the Dark Arts he is, do I?”

 

“So I messed up. I get it.” Harry said, glumly. He really should have thought this through. What would Tom say?

 

“No!” Draco shot up, tucking one leg under him to turn and face Harry properly. “You didn’t mess up! This is  _ great!” _

 

“...it doesn’t sound like it.”

 

“Harry Potter practices the Dark Arts.” Draco said again, like that meant something.

 

“Yes…” Harry said slowly, “I do.”

 

“Oh, for-” The blonde cut himself off and took a breath, “Harry Potter is known to the world as the boy who defeated the Dark Lord, right?”

 

Harry nodded.

 

“To them, you more than anyone should be against the Dark Arts.”

 

Oh, it was starting to make sense a bit.

 

“But, you’re not! If you can say that you practice the Dark Arts, maybe  _ we _ can, too.” He seemed so earnest, “Do you see?”

 

“I think so… sort of.” Harry couldn’t stop a small smile, Draco’s enthusiasm was catching even if he didn’t completely get it, “But, Draco, it's not really a secret that some families practice the Dark Arts. I mean, Ron was ranting about that, wasn’t he?”

 

“Yes, but we can’t really  _ speak  _ about it.” 

 

Harry’s expression must have been lacking whatever Draco had hoped to see. He stood with a fond-sounding groan, and headed for the door. “You’ll get just how big this is when you next leave this room, I think. By now I’m sure word has spread around the castle. I’ll go on ahead and answer a few of the questions our housemates are bound to have. Come up when you’re ready, I’ll be in the common room.”

 

He grinned back at Harry before he disappeared from sight.

 

Even if Draco thought whatever change that was going to come from this was positive, Harry did not share the same level of excitement. As he sat there, Harry wondered how long he could get away with hiding out here alone. Or, mostly alone. He pulled the diary out of his pocket. As nervous as he was to tell Tom what he’d done, in case he was disappointed, he really needed his advice right now before he did go face his housemates and do something else without thinking.

 

Draco had left the door ajar and Harry rushed over to close it before he brought the diary out. He settled the diary in his lap and flipped it open. He wanted to delay this talk, but he knew he needed to talk to Tom now. Draco was right in thinking that the professors would be watching him after this. It wouldn’t surprise him if he was called up to the headmaster’s office again for another unpleasant conversation with Dumbledore. He needed to be ready for that if that was going to happen like he feared.

 

_ Hello, Tom. _

 

Ah, his writing wasn’t as neat as normal. He was more nervous than he thought if his hand wasn’t steady. If Tom somehow overlooked how early it was for Harry to be writing, then this would clue him in immediately. 

 

_ Harry, are you well?  _

 

Knew it. The smarter choice would be to just write to Tom instead of visiting him in the diary. There was the chance of someone coming to fetch him for the Headmaster so he should remain out of the diary just in case they walked right into his room. He locked it, but that didn’t really do any good when first years learned  _ alohomora. _ In the future he’d need to look into better ways at keeping people out, but for now he had to focus. Still, he wanted to  _ talk  _ to Tom. 

 

_ I think so, but I need to speak with you, please. _

 

His urgency must have been clear to Tom, for without any further written communication he was inside the diary once more. With how often he’d experienced falling into the diary, Harry should be able to stay on his feet as he landed. That wasn’t the case, sadly, but he quickly recovered, pushing himself up from the soft burgundy rug he’d landed on.

 

It wasn’t usual to find Tom anywhere other than the Slytherin Common room. Sure, they explored Tom’s version of the castle, and not infrequently. Harry had even shared a few more of his memories, too, just to give Tom new places to see. Ones that were not the Dursley’s house. He hadn’t had many to share, but he was glad to have been able to give Tom something new at all. Even if it was just the park by the house or his old muggle school.

 

The place he arrived to this time in the Diary was one of the places that he had shared with Tom the last time they’d spoken. Hogwarts meant a lot to the other orphan, Harry knew. Tom had shared with him secrets of the castle that he had found. In fact, all of Tom’s shared memories had been at the castle or on it’s grounds, never anywhere else. So, it was obvious that he spent a great deal of time traversing the castle as a student. Knowing this, Harry was glad to be able to show Tom a part of the beloved castle that Tom had not been able to see before. Still, he didn’t expect to find Tom viewing the memory of that place again. Or, for Tom to have committed this amount of detail into his own memory. 

 

Tom looked so out of place in the Gryffindor Common Room.

 

“Do not misunderstand, Harry.” The Slytherin smiled lightly from where he stood near a window overlooking the grounds, “I far prefer the green and silver of our house. I am just pleased to be able to have new areas to see.”

 

Harry did not have time to be proud of himself for making Tom happy like he had hoped. He blurted out, “I admitted to being interested in the Dark Arts.”

 

That wiped the easy smile off the older student’s face and he turned to face Harry fully looking startled at the admission. Harry bit his lip as he waited for Tom to say something.

 

“Who knows?” Tom questioned, snapping into focus.

 

“Most likely everyone in the school by now.” He admitted quietly, head bowed. “I said it in front of Ron and some of the other Gryffindors after the tryouts.”

 

Tom didn’t look angry, but he didn’t look happy either like Draco had been. His face was blank. Tom strode over to him, reaching into his robes as he did so to pull his own diary from an inside pocket. He handed it over quickly, but not unkindly. Harry did his best to not take a step back from him and his currently intimidating aura.

 

“Show me exactly what happened.” Tom pressed.

 

“O-okay.” Harry brought the fresh memory to the front of his mind and the once-comforting Gryffindor tower morphed into the grounds between the Quidditch Pitch and the castle.

 

The memory started right as memory Harry and Draco had just paused in their trek back to the castle. Memory Ron caught up in the next moment and it really began. As the scene unfolded, Tom kept quiet. He watched intently, not paying any mind to the real Harry standing next to him. 

 

Harry took comfort from the warmth of the fake diary in his arms. He glanced at Tom momentarily, but quickly looked away, shifting his gaze back to the small diary he held and focusing instead on the gentle beat it had. He had no idea what Tom was thinking in this moment and he was incredibly nervous to find out.

 

Draco had been happy, he had to remind himself. Tom should be, too, right? Draco had tried to reassure him, and it worked a little, but Tom’s opinion mattered so much more to him. 

 

Too soon for his liking the memory ended with memory Harry and Draco leaving Ron and his insults behind. The memory students faded away and Tom and Harry were left by themselves on the grounds.

 

Tom remained silent and Harry peeked up at him, nervous for his reaction. Tom was still staring at where memory Harry had been moments ago.

 

“Well.” Tom uttered softly.

 

Harry swallowed. Tom’s lack of inflexion in his tone did nothing to help curb Harry’s current anxiety. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other wanting to move, but afraid to bring Tom’s attention back to him.

 

It didn’t matter for Tom finally faced him again. His eyes softened as he looked at Harry and the corners of his lips slowly curved up into a grin. “ _ Well.” _ He repeated, but this time it was drawn out with amusement.

 

“So… you’re not mad?” Harry did his best not to squeak as relief rushed through him with Tom’s apparent good mood. “Draco seemed excited about it when we returned to the common room.”

 

“No, love, I am not mad at you.” Tom reached out and clasped both his shoulders. “The opposite, really. You have done nothing wrong,  _ but  _ you need to be ready for what will happen now.”

 

“Draco said the professors wouldn’t be happy about it and that I’d be watched. I’m nervous that Dumbledore will pull me aside again.” Harry really had to tilt his head up to be able to see Tom’s face with him standing so close. The growing enthusiasm on the taller boy’s face was worth the uncomfortable angle.

 

“Yes, the professors will be watching you, but so will everyone else.  _ Let them.  _ Be an example, Harry.” Tom obviously wanted to say more one that, but held back. His gaze mellowed, “I am sure you will be pulled aside for this, and likely very soon. So, I shall keep this short.” Tom squeezed once, then let go of his shoulders entirely, but remained close. Harry didn’t know if he was glad for that or not. While he liked Tom, he didn’t want to get flustered and have Tom think him weird. Now was not the time for this!

 

“Remember you did not say you actively  _ practiced _ any of the Dark Arts. Only that you studied them. Do not let Dumbledore trick you into saying that, alright?” Tom held a hand out for the dairy and Harry complied, passing it over. “I do not believe that I need to remind you to not make eye contact with him, but I can not help that worry until you can learn to guard your mind.”

 

“Yeah.” Harry ducked his head again, looking down and to the side away from the other boy. Tom had told him all about the practice of Occlumency and Legilimency, but it was something that they could not practice within the limits of the diary. Harry could try all he wanted to clear his mind in meditation on his own, but he got nowhere with it. He needed someone else, but he trusted no one but Tom with his memories. Harry was unaccustomed to not being able to live up to Tom’s expectations. Failing at something so useful bothered him.

 

“Should I leave your diary behind, too?” Harry hoped he didn’t sound as reluctant as he felt.

 

“That would be best.” Harry heard Tom say, then felt his chin being turned upwards with two of Tom’s fingers. Harry met his eyes and jerked back out of his reach. He rubbed the top of his hand under his chin quickly, as if to wipe away Tom’s touch. Tom let out a short soft huff at that. Probably expected that reaction, the git. “Do not worry, Harry. Though your public stance was unplanned, we can work with this. For one: I think you need not fret about our house questioning your claim as the Heir now. Even if there is doubt, they would have no reason now to oppose you.”

 

“Oh. I, yeah, that is good.” Harry tried to form a reply, not really comprehending what Tom was saying now that he was embarrassed and annoyed. This conversation could end now, thank you. 

 

Luckily, Tom was done, “We will talk more on this tonight when we are not pressed for time. For now, be careful.” 

 

Harry nodded absently, and the world faded to darkness. When he opened his eyes again he was back on his bed. Safe in his own room away from confusing handsome older Slytherins. He looked down at the book in his lap. 

 

_ Good luck, love.  _

 

Harry shut the diary quickly. Tom was probably laughing at him again. He didn’t need to think about what Tom thought of him right now.

 

Harry shoved the diary under a pillow. He still didn’t feel prepared to talk to the rest of his house, but at least he knew Draco would already be down there talking about it.

 

-

 

It was not often in Hogwarts that a student was open about their beliefs on the Dark Arts.

 

No, that wasn’t quite it. It wasn’t often that students openly  _ supported  _ the Dark Arts. 

 

Plenty of students were vocal about how much they hated that vile branch of magic. The Gryffindors in particular were extremely vocal. Public distrust of the Dark Arts had been occurring for decades. It had been like that when he attended school, and even well before then, too.

 

In the years since Severus had become a professor he’d had to talk to only a few students about their  _ interest _ . Before Hogwarts, wizarding children were almost isolated. Families, especially the traditional ones as most dark families were, kept to themselves. The other families they associated with and introduced their offspring to were only those that shared their beliefs. So it was bound to happen from time to time, that a parent’s warnings wouldn’t be enough. Growing up as they did, surrounded with wizards and witches that celebrated their dark heritage made for a difficult transition into hiding what they were.

 

In those cases, when a student did not heed any of their parent’s warnings, it fell to Severus to talk to them. Technically, it was the duty of the student’s head of house, but in all his years at the school it had only been Slytherins, so it was always him. Infrequent as it was that he had to talk to a student for this, his spiel came easily and remained basically the same. 

 

_ No, you’re not evil, Gryffindors are brainless fools. _

 

_ You do not have to change your beliefs, but you need to be careful of who you trust. _

 

He found no enjoyment in telling his students these truths, but it was necessary. It was normal.

 

He never expected he’d ever need to have this kind of discussion with Potter of all students.

 

Of course, he never expected Potter to be in Slytherin. Or, to  _ fit in _ with the rest of Slytherin house. Or, for, according to Albus, the boy to be just like the Dark Lord when he was in school.

 

There were a lot of things happening this year that he did not expect.

 

Dumbledore was convinced that Potter was an exact replica of the Dark Lord as a child. Severus was not so sure. Granted, Severus had not known the Dark Lord as a child, like Albus had. He could acknowledge that his opinion might be different if he had the experience of having taught both of them to draw comparisons from.

 

Still, he held onto some doubt that Potter was being influenced by the Dark Lord’s soul at all. After all, the boy hadn’t really changed that much personality wise from when he was a Gryffindor. Sure, he studied more and kept to himself at first, but to Severus, that did not mean the boy was a miniature Dark Lord. 

 

Really, how did Albus expect the boy to react? Potter did not ask for the re-sorting. While the sorting hat may have gone with its initial opinion of Potter, an opinion Potter would have been aware of, Potter had no reason to think it would come up again.  

 

To Severus’ view, Potter reacted like any other child would have in that situation. The fact that he was adapting and growing comfortable around his own house? It was going to happen eventually since his previous friendships did not survive the change. 

 

But for the boy to openly defend the study of the Dark Arts? 

 

Potter had changed far more than Severus expected. And much quicker. From what he had been told about the events, even Draco had been shocked by Potter’s words. Severus had been keeping an eye on the boy for a while, per Albus’ request and his own interest. So he knew the Malfoy heir was the only one close to Potter. There was no one else that could have introduced him to that magic. If someone else had gotten close to the boy he would have heard about it. Since he knew that was not the case, and Draco didn’t appear to be the one to change his opinions, well, he had reason to really suspect that there might be another influence.

 

The Horcrux.

 

The blasted part of the Dark Lord that had completely changed everything. The future had been uncertain before, but he’d at least had some expectations. Now… he wasn’t sure of anything. 

 

Last year had proved Albus’ theory that the Dark Lord had not truly died was correct. With the idea of the Dark Lord one day returning becoming real, Severus had begun to resign himself to his fate. When the Dark Lord returned Severus would be acting as a spy. He could never return to the Dark, not with his vow to protect Potter. 

 

He’d thought, foolishly, that the vow had simplified things. 

 

He would protect Potter, so he could not be on the side of the Dark. Simple. 

 

Unfortunately, Potter being one of the Dark Lord’s horcruxes made it anything but simple.

 

He was still searching for a way to remove the Horcrux, but it wasn’t promising. The only sure way was to destroy the vessel. In this case, the boy’s death.

 

Aiding in the boy’s death, even if it was to weaken the Dark Lord, would be going against his vow. Losing his magic by doing so was not something he wanted to happen. There was the chance that the vow might not punish him if he didn’t kill the boy himself, but if he knew that the boy’s life was in danger and he chose not to act, well, that might be enough for the vow to find fault. He wasn’t keen on finding out, either.

 

Now Potter himself was leaning to the Dark and that complicated things further. Because that didn’t mean the boy would join the Dark Lord. Even if he was accepting of the Dark Arts, he still lost his parents to the crazed wizard. Neither did it seem likely any longer that Potter would side with the Light. 

 

Would he be neutral? Would the Dark Lord let him be? Would  _ Albus? _

 

There were too many possibilities right now. He would have to wait and see how things progressed from here. The only thing he was certain of was that he would need to protect Potter. It just remained to see  _ who  _ he was protecting him from.

 

With luck, his conversation with the boy would help him narrow down those possibilities. Allow him to focus on what would help the both of them survive. This conversation could be what he needed.

 

It was a relief that Albus did not want to have the talk with the child instead. Though it was Severus’ responsibility as Head of House, he still expected Albus to insist on being the one to speak to him. He might have, too, if Severus had not been present when the news had reached him.

 

Gossip of any kind travels fast in Hogwarts. 

 

So gossip of Harry Potter saying he supported the Dark Arts reached the Headmaster in minutes. From multiple sources. Students, ghosts, portraits... the story varied with each source. And with each, the twinkle in the Headmaster’s eyes diminished more and more. 

 

Albus requested as quickly as he could for Granger and Weasley to come to his office. Snape did not want to be present for that, but insisted anyway. Weasley, the main reason why he did not want to be there, could not hold his idiotic tongue. The stupid child claimed that he taught all Slytherins ‘dark evil stuff’, including his ex-best friend. So, no, he was not happy to be around the brat. 

 

He was, however, grateful for being able to hear the first-hand recollection of the earlier events from Granger. Most of what Weasley spewed he dismissed as horrible exaggerations. He could at least count on the girl to be accurate. He could have waited to just hear about it after from Albus, but that would not have been any help. The man liked to leave too much out and Severus would not have had a clear picture.

 

So, he could be confident in believing he got the most accurate account of the argument that he could get, short of actually having been present at the time. From that he could gather that Potter had not said anything that he could be punished for, regretfully. True, giving Potter detention wouldn’t fix anything, but it would sure make him feel better.

 

Once the two Gryffindors finished their tale, they were thanked(by Albus) and dismissed, leaving a thoughtful Potions Master and a morose Headmaster behind. Taking one look at the older wizard, Severus was quick to make his departure as well. He was anxious to see what the boy had to say. It was better to leave before Albus could change his mind. 

 

As usual students scrambled to get out of his way as he made his descent through the school to the dungeons. Soon enough he was speaking the password and the stones covering the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room pulled themselves aside. When he stepped through all eyes fell on him and chatter fully died out. He easily spotted the boy, surrounded as he was by most of the older years. Potter appeared to be uncertain from his place in the spotlight. Seated beside him, Draco looked to be more than just a little pleased, basking in the attention. 

 

“Potter, a word.” He spoke into the silence of the room, then turned and left without waiting for a reply. The boy would follow and there was nothing more he would say in front of other students. Even if they were all Slytherins.

 

He heard the child’s footfalls behind him not a minute later. The walk to his office was silent, and over too fast. This conversation could give him the insight he needed to figure out Potter again. He needed this, but he wasn’t sure he was ready for this all the same.

 

The boy now seated opposite him was calm. His green eyes stared at a point higher than Severus’ own. He hadn’t had a one on one talk with Potter recently, but he had noticed the boy had started avoiding eye contact with him in class.

 

Clearly, he was wary of Legilimency. It was interesting that the boy even knew what that was, let alone was cautious of it. He wanted to know what the boy was hiding, but now was not the time. It was unlikely that Potter would notice if he slipped into his mind, even if he knew what Legilimency was, should the opportunity arise. Still he would resist. If the boy was being influenced by the Horcrux, he  _ might _ have the ability by now to notice an intrusion. It wouldn’t do to encourage more distrust in him before he understood more of the boy. It wasn’t worth the risk at this time.

 

“I expect you know why you are here.” 

 

“Yes, sir.” The boy acknowledged, far more politely than he’d ever been when he was a Gryffindor. “I admitted to an interest in the Dark Arts in front of… Weasley.” He hesitated slightly at the other boy’s name, likely not used to referring to his old friend by last name. “Am I in trouble, sir?”

 

“No, you somehow managed to avoid that so far.” He drawled, “While you may have avoided proper discipline, there are still other repercussions. As your Head of House, it is my unfortunate duty to inform you of them. As well as to dissuade you from going any further in your study of the Art while you are within the walls of this school.”

 

Potter frowned, but remained silent.

 

“Your stunt has spread around the school already, I’m sure you won’t be surprised to know.” The boy nodded, but didn’t look remorseful. “From what I’ve heard, it sounds like you are at least aware that the practice, not study, of dark magic is banned. That much is good. It is still not something that you should be so open about.”

 

“I understand, sir.”

 

“Do you?”

 

“Well, I get that it has drawn attention to me. And not all good.” Potter sighed.

 

Ah, he did regret it. Potter was already receiving enough negative attention from the rest of the school. The belief that he was the Heir of Slytherin did not make him popular with the rest of the houses, and his parseltongue made it worse. It was no wonder that the thought of more negative attention from his classmates would squash any interest he had in the Dark Arts. Severus shouldn’t feel disappointed that Potter would give up so easily, but he did.

 

“Have you rethought your interest already?” He questioned evenly, keeping the frustration from his tone. Of course Potter would care too much about his reputation. He probably hadn’t really been interested in the Art to begin with.

 

“No.” The boy looked offended at that, interestingly enough, but still managed to keep from making eye contact. “I haven’t changed my mind because of that.”

 

Oh.That was promising. Severus maintained his uninterested look, despite his excitement. So he could probably cross off the possibility of Potter wanting to return to the Light, then. That was a relief, as Potter being on the side of the Light was impossible. Still, it wouldn’t do to show how pleased he was with this development. 

 

“Your dedication is… admirable.” He said with as bored a tone as he could muster.

 

Usually, with his past students, he would explain that being openly supportive of the Dark Arts could hinder them later in life. It was not acceptable in this age to admit to being a Dark Wizard. If you came from a Dark family, everyone  _ knew,  _ of course. But, it was still better to never mention it. That stance could, and had, hurt a student’s future. It could keep them from easily securing a job out of Hogwarts and hurt their family’s reputation.

 

It worked most of the time. Bringing shame to a family’s name was a powerful deterrent. With Potter he would skip that. He stared at the boy in silence for a few minutes as he considered his next words. 

 

“If you are truly interested in the art, Potter, I have a suggestion. Transferring schools is not common, but not unheard of. You may want to consider attending Durmstrang instead. That school is accepting of the Dark Arts, even encourages it. You would have to finish the year here, but I imagine you would have no trouble starting your third year there if you wished.”

 

The suggestion of Durmstrang was not new, he’d brought it up with other students who were unwilling to tone down their dark nature in the past with varying success. He doubted Potter would be willing to switch schools, but it could be a wonderful solution. If the boy left Hogwarts, he would be out of Albus’ reach. He would be out of Severus’ reach as well, but he could figure something out. It, too, would be beneficial for the boy to have actual guidance with his study of the Dark Arts. Right now the boy had no one, from what he could see, to keep him from going too far and injuring himself. Or others. Whatever influence the horcrux might have on him was still unproven and uncertain, so Severus couldn’t depend on that. 

 

“Durmstrang?” The boy’s gaze flickered closer to his own in shock, but he quickly caught himself, “I hadn’t realized that was an option, sir. I, er, I’d have to think about that.”

 

That was more than Severus expected. Maybe he could encourage the boy more on that later. The more he thought on it, the more he liked the idea himself. 

 

“For something as important as that, I wouldn’t accept your decision so quickly without enough thought put into it. If you do decide to do this, inform me of your decision and I will help you make arrangements.”

 

“Thank you, sir.” The boy said quietly, obviously thinking about what he’d suggested. Severus decided he’d wrap this up quickly and leave the boy to it. 

 

“For now, know that you  _ will  _ be expelled if you are caught practicing the Dark Arts here. I won’t ask if you have been so far, but do not chance it now. There are many now that will be watching you for any hint of dark magic. Your fame won’t save you from expulsion. Do you understand?”

 

The boy nodded, “Yes, sir.”

 

“Splendid.” He intoned flatly, “You may go.”

 

Potter was gone without delay. He hoped the boy truly thought about what he said and considered Durmstrang. Severus wouldn’t count on it, however. He’d prepare for any outcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Planned on having a discussion between Dumbledore and Snape, but I was having a hard time writing the dialogue for that. 
> 
> Not much happened in this chapter, but I promise things will be picking up soon. I've already settled on an outline for the next chapter and I'm pretty happy with it so far. :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Normally I feel like no much happens in a chapter. Not the case here! I feel like I fit quite a bit. And, instead of struggling to get to the word count I aim for, this one just kept going to the point that I didn’t fit all that I planned lol 
> 
> Like it probably is for everyone, things are getting busy with the holiday approaching. But I’m going to try to get another chapter done quickly, hoping to be able to have something to post on Tom’s birthday at least, if not sooner.
> 
> Oh, and for anyone worried about the possibility of Durmstrang, or hoping for it. I just want to let everyone know it won't be happening in this story. It's a possibility if I continue this in another(something I have already been contemplating), but for what I have planned, this story will end at the end of Harry's year here. :)

The one regret Harry had about revealing his opinion to the school was that it made it near impossible to practice the spells Tom taught him. It really was too bad, because now, more than ever, did he want to try out some of those spells. 

 

He hadn’t dared to try any of the spells on Ron now, not with how closely he was being watched by students and teachers alike. Or, with how Ron blamed him for anything. No, he didn’t doubt he’d be found out. He’d been forced to limit his practice to within his dorm on inanimate objects. Frustrating, but he wasn’t going to risk expulsion. 

 

In the week and a half since the Gryffindor tryouts he’d been accused no less than a dozen times of cursing another student with dark magic. Most of those accusations came from a distrustful Ron Weasley. It was amusing at first, since Ron didn’t notice when Harry  _ had  _ been doing just that. And now that he wasn’t, the other boy was suspicious of everything. 

 

Ron tripped going up the stairs as they all left the dungeons after potions?  _ Did anyone see that? Potter cursed me! _

 

Ron having a sneezing fit as he passed Harry in a corridor?  _ What dark spell- achoo!  _

 

After the fourth one it was starting to wear on him. He was grateful that the Professors at least looked for proof of Ron’s, or any other student’s, claims before they did anything. Snape, too, was surprisingly supportive. He wasn’t sure anyone else noticed, since the Potions Professor was as rude as ever. But, he was quick to appear when trouble looked to be starting. 

 

The older Slytherins had taken to looking out for him and vouching for his innocence when they could. It made the whole situation a little more bearable. Plus, he could just be growing used to the distrust of most of the school by now.

 

It was a little different from how people first treated him when they thought he was the Heir of Slytherin. There was fear in both instances, but there was a lot more  _ anger  _ directed at him this time. He supposed it was because he admitted to an interest in the Dark Arts, whereas he’d denied being the Heir. Well, denied to all but the Slytherins, of course. 

 

The weekend couldn’t arrive quickly enough for the frustrated Slytherin. 

 

Harry was ready for a distraction from his problems and so woke up in high spirits the morning of the next Quidditch match. He’d kept up with his assignments all week, along with Draco, so that they would be free all weekend. The weather had started to turn, thankfully. While it wasn’t  _ truly  _ warm outside, after feeling the freezing temperatures for so long, it felt beautiful. This time he wouldn’t mind the Quidditch match running on for longer. In fact, he was hoping it would.

 

Even if he wouldn’t be cheering for his old team, he still couldn’t wait to see how Fay, his replacement, held up. She appeared to be a competent flyer at the very least, but hadn’t been quick to find the golden snitch in the tryouts. With so little time since the tryouts, she wouldn’t be likely to have improved much, if at all. 

 

It was still too early for breakfast when he opened his eyes, but he resisted the pull of going back to sleep. He stretched out his limbs, stiff from sleep, and enjoyed the warmth under his heavy green duvet for a few more minutes before he braved the cold of the room. It may be warming up outside, but the dungeons were as cold as ever. It was unpleasant now, but when the temperatures really started to rise outside, Draco told him he’d be glad for it. Since that hadn’t happened yet, the cold stone under his feet had him hurrying to clean and dress for the day.

 

Breakfast wasn’t too far off, but he could write to Tom for a little while and still arrive early in the Great Hall. 

 

_ Good morning, Tom! The next Quidditch match is today! _

 

_ Good morning to you, as well, Harry. Oh, is it? _

 

_ Yes! Don’t you remember me telling you? _

 

_ Maybe three or four times…  _

 

-

 

So much for being early to breakfast. 

 

Harry had gotten so enraptured in talking to Tom(no surprise there) that Draco had to come and get him, wondering why Harry hadn’t come up to their common room yet. Harry quickly scribbled a ‘ _ Going to breakfast!’  _ and placed the diary in his bag, before following the other boy out of the dorms. Crabbe and Goyle joined them when they reached the stone wall leading out of their common room. 

 

The whole way up to the great hall Harry and Draco talked excitedly about the upcoming match. Crabbe and Goyle followed at a more sluggish pace, looking to me more asleep than awake. They became more alert once they reached the Great Hall and the smell of breakfast hit them. 

 

As usual on Quidditch days, the hall was already full of students. Harry didn’t even bother looking over to see if Ron was there. He surely was, but Harry didn’t need him blaming him for something just by making eye contact. Not again. This was a good day, the first day of the weekend, and nothing was going to ruin it!

 

He took a seat next to Draco, while Crabbe and Goyle flopped into the ones across from them. 

 

Harry continued their quidditch discussion while he filled his plate. “I don’t think Gryffindor will  _ win _ , but I think they’ll still have a chance for the cup. I’m sure they’re going to be trying for as many points as they can without the snitch.” He poured himself some pumpkin juice once Draco had finished with pouring his own.

 

“I don’t think it’ll make a difference, Harry. Yeah, the Hufflepuff seeker is going to be the one to catch the snitch, everyone knows it. Fay just doesn’t have the practice yet to be serious competition for Diggory. But, I don’t think they’ll have the time to. Hufflepuff’s seeker is pretty good, the game probably won’t go on long enough for them to rack up points.”

 

“Still, Gryffindor won the first match against Slytherin. I wouldn’t say they’re out of the running completely.” Harry took a sip of his juice, but scrunched his nose in disgust at the taste. “Eugh.” Really, it wasn’t that bad, but it was a little soured. He’d brushed his teeth, but it should have been long enough since then that his taste wouldn’t be affected.

 

“Something wrong with the juice?” His friend asked, holding up his own to his nose for a sniff. Finding nothing wrong with the smell, Draco took a sip of his own, “Huh, tastes fine to me. Are you feeling sick?”

 

“No, I felt great this morning when I woke up.” He waved off his friend’s concern and took another sip. “Huh, it’s fine now. Don’t know why I thought that.” Darn toothpaste.

 

“Hmm.” Draco hummed in thought looking at Harry’s goblet in suspicion.

 

Draco had been defensive and protective of Harry all week. He appreciated it, but it was unnecessary right now. Harry tried to distract him with more quidditch talk, “So what about the Hufflepuff team? Do you think-”

 

The sound of many, many wings cut him off. He hadn’t needed to worry about making his own distraction as nearly a hundred mail-delivering owls picked that moment to enter the Great Hall to do it for him. Draco turned his head up to look at them, watching for his own owl. The blonde Slytherin frequently received letters from home along with small gifts or treats. 

 

Harry turned his attention back to his meal as Draco’s large eagle-owl swooped down to his friend. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen the large bird, far from it now, but it still amazed him how graceful the massive bird was. With it’s wingspan as big as it was, he thought it would knock something over in it’s landing.

 

It didn’t, and Draco was quick to detach the letter from his bird’s leg. With a smile and several strips of bacon, Draco sent the owl off again, most likely to rest up in the owlery. Most of the time Draco would write a letter back the same day to his parents, so the owl would wait for that reply. He should go with him today if he did. He hadn’t seen Hedwig in a while.

 

Harry tried to focus back on his food, but his stomach protested the thought. Odd, he hadn’t eaten that much yet. It was starting to feel a little warm, it would feel nice to get outside soon. But, it was still to early, so he took another sip of his cold juice instead and waited for Draco to finish reading his letter. The other boy had a wide grin on his face. Harry couldn’t help but ask, “Good news, I take it?”

 

Draco turned his smile towards him, “Yes, definitely. See for yourself, there’s something for you.”

 

The blonde passed him a smaller letter that must have been inside the other. It was unmarked and Harry looked to him in confusion. 

 

“Go on! I don’t know  _ exactly  _ what’s in there, but father says it is good news.”

 

_ Draco’s Father... _ Harry’s eyes widened and he pulled the parchment out of the envelope in a hurry. It had been so long now since he asked for Mr Malfoy to help him with this. Tom had been so assured that this would work, but Harry had begun to lose hope after a while and tried not to think about it. A month was a long time after all! 

 

He looked down at the letter in his hands, hope growing in his chest, to see that it wasn’t from Mr Malfoy at all, but someone named Ruth? Who was that?

  
  


_ Mr. Potter _

 

_ My name is Ruth Edwards and I am writing to you in regards to my investigation on your concerns about your home life. Per your request I have done my best to keep the investigation as quiet as possible. That is the reason it has taken me longer than what is usual to get back to you. Rest assured, I believe you made the right choice in keeping this quiet. From here on out the process should move a lot faster. _

 

_ Our next step requires a interview with you, to decide what you would like to happen from here out. I would like to speak with you on what options are available to you for your future living arrangements.  _

 

_ The location of the meeting is up to you. In the past, I have come to the school for these meetings, and that is still possible for you if you wish. I understand that may not be the best for your case and I am able to meet with you outside of school as well.  _

 

_ Lord Malfoy has offered us the chance to meet at his home over the Easter Holiday as an option. He has told me that his son will be extending an invite for you to stay with them. If that does not work for you, we can discuss other options.  _

 

_ Feel free to send your reply to me directly if you are comfortable, or with your friend. Lord Malfoy will forward anything to me in that case. _

 

_ Best Regards, _

 

_ Ruth Edwards _

_ Department of Wizarding Children’s Welfare _

_ Ministry of Magic _

 

He sat there taking it in. 

 

_ Future living arrangements _ ?

 

Was it really happening? Was he going to be able to live somewhere else and not go back to the Dursleys? He had no idea where he’d possibly go. Or, who would take him in, but... it would  _ not _ be the Dursleys! 

 

He  _ was not going back! _

 

He couldn’t help but read the letter again a second time, feeling giddy excitement build up in him as he did. He let out a happy laugh, unable to contain his joy. He felt so warm.

 

“It’s good news, I take it?” Draco parroted his earlier question back at him with a grin.

 

“It’s… “ Harry took a breath to calm himself, feeling so relieved that he might cry, “ _ The best news.” _

 

One part of the letter stood out to him now, “Draco… it mentioned something about the Easter Holidays?”

 

“Oh, yeah! I asked my father about you staying with us weeks ago, but I guess I didn’t have to. That was the good news I had!” He said excitedly, “You will be coming over, right?”

 

“I’d love to, Draco.” He replied earnestly, “Thank you. For everything.”

 

Embarrassed by Harry’s genuine gratitude, Draco waved it off, “It’s all no problem, of course. Mum will be happy to have me bring a friend over for the holiday, too.”

 

“I can’t wait.” He said and turned to look down at the letter in his hand again. He tried to concentrate on the words, but there was a slight pressure in his head that was slowly increasing.

 

He shook his head wondering where the headache came from. Draco was speaking to him, telling him all the things they could do over break, but he hardly heard any of it.

 

Suddenly, he realized, he was not okay. He wasn’t warm, it was  _ hot.  _ His head was pounding and the smell of breakfast that had been so enticing minutes ago was anything but now.

 

“Uh, Draco. He looks like…” A grumbly voice from across from him spoke up. With his palms pressed into his eyes, and the pounding in his head keeping him from clear thought, he couldn’t be sure if it was Crabbe or Goyle who spoke. 

 

“H-Harry, are you alright?” A concerned voice asked.

 

That was Draco. Harry managed to pull his hands away from his eyes and blinked in the now too-bright light of the hall. “I think you were right. I think I’m sick.” He forced out, trying not to curl in on himself.

 

“C’mon, I’ll take you to the hospital wing.”

 

“No, no, it’s fine.” Harry denied. The pain in his head lessened slightly. He still wasn’t feeling great, but it wasn’t worth a trip to the hospital wing. “I’m going to head back to the dorm and sleep it off.”

 

Harry stood slowly. He clumsily placed the letter,  _ the wonderful letter,  _ in his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He hoped he hadn’t crumpled it too bad, he wanted to save it. Draco stood next to him, “I’ll go with you.”

 

“No, no, that’s okay. Everyone will be heading down to the pitch soon. I don’t want you to miss the game.”

 

“But-”

 

“I’ll be fine.” Harry stressed, with a pained smile, “You can’t miss the game. Who’ll fill me in on it later?”

 

Draco looked reluctant to let him go, but conceded with a sigh and sat back down. “Alright. I’ll check up on you after. You better sleep, you look like you need it.”

 

Harry nodded absently in agreement and directed all his thoughts on putting one foot in front of the other and getting back to his bed before he felt worse. He made it out of the Great Hall without incident, but had to shield his eyes again with one hand as the pounding in his skull picked up in intensity once more. The other hand he pressed into his stomach, which didn’t hurt so much as  _ burn. _

 

Merlin, he hoped he didn’t need to throw up. It had been a while since he was last sick, so he was probably due for a cold of some sort. Couldn’t avoid that forever, but why now? Why  _ today _ ?

 

The fire in his belly spread and he found himself stopping to lean on a wall. How far off was he from his dorm? How many steps had he taken?

 

He pulled his hand away from his face and squinted at his surroundings. It was darker... ?

 

Oh. No, his vision was darkening. Was he going to pass out? He wasn’t sure, but he thought he was swaying on his feet. He leaned into the wall more, needing the support. Better to not move too quickly or he would pass out.

 

He should have let Draco come with him, but he didn’t think it was that bad at the time. Now, here he was, slumping more and more into a wall who knows how far from the Great Hall. Everyone would be heading outside for the match and it could be an hour or more before someone would come down this corridor next.

 

Faintly, he heard footsteps from somewhere in front of him. He blinked his blurring eyes at the red-headed figure in front of him. He couldn’t seem to focus, however and the scorching heat continued it’s path from his stomach, in all directions, leaving numbness in its wake. 

 

“Harry?” The person spoke.

 

He tried again to look at them properly, maybe ask for help, but he finally slumped the rest of the way down the wall and into relieving darkness.

 

-

 

Draco knew something was wrong. 

 

He’d suspected something when Harry had mentioned his drink tasting off, but when Harry hadn’t appeared to look any different right away he dismissed his nervous feeling as paranoia. Plus, Harry had said the drink tasted fine with the next sip. 

 

He let himself be distracted by the arrival of his owl. He’d been waiting for a reply from his father about Harry staying with them over the break. And then Harry had agreed to it! Harry, as well, looked overjoyed with the contents of his letter. Draco knew somewhat of what it was about, seeing as he was the one who Harry came to to start the whole thing. He was glad to see that it was going so well for Harry. 

 

Still, he should have known better than to let himself be so distracted.

 

The other houses had been rude, even confrontational sometimes, with Harry over the last little more than a week since Harry had admitted his Dark nature. So he had been wary of any possible threats to his friend during that time. But, he didn’t think anyone would actually be stupid enough to  _ poison _ him.

 

Because that’s what it was. It had to be. There was no way that Harry would just naturally get sick that fast. He was fine one minute, and then the next Goyle was directing Draco’s attention to a rapidly paling Harry hunched over and clutching his head in obvious pain.

 

He wanted to insist on going with the other boy. Was about to. He had an idea, however, and let the other boy stumble off alone. For now. Draco would catch up with him in a moment,  _ not  _ after the Quidditch match like Harry wanted.

 

As Harry made his way out of the Great Hall, Draco was alert. He looked over at the Gryffindors, his first suspects. Weasley and Granger were conversing with each other, huddled close. They weren’t paying any attention to their former friend, who was clearly not alright, leaving the hall. They didn’t  _ appear  _ to have anything to do with it, but Draco wouldn’t count them out. He tried a quick look at some other classmates that might have dared to do this, but didn’t have enough time to focus. 

 

Well, that didn’t work. He’d hoped he catch the person responsible with Harry out of sight, but no luck. With a quick spell he had Harry’s goblet in an unspillable stasis and thrust it into a stunned Goyle’s hands. 

 

“Hold onto that. I think it’s been poisoned.” He whispered hastily, trying to keep his other housemates from hearing. Pushing back from the table, he stood, “Follow me, both of you. We need to hurry.”

 

He took off at as quick of a pace he could manage without drawing attention. He was grateful that the other two had read the situation right this time and followed without question.

 

The trio set off retracing their steps on the same path that they had taken earlier. Harry had said he was going back to the dorm, and Draco hoped that really was where he was heading. He didn’t want to waste time looking for the other boy. In the state he was in, Draco doubted he had gotten far. Once they caught up to him, he wouldn’t take no for an answer and drag him to the hospital wing. Or have Crabbe or Goyle carry him there if needed.

 

They entered another corridor without Harry in it, to Draco’s surprise. He was trying not to be impressed with how fast Harry had moved. Now wasn’t the time for that, he thought with frustration.

 

“Harry?” He heard a voice call tentatively from around the next corner. Finally!

 

He picked up his pace and turned the corner, Crabbe and Goyle right on his heels.

 

Harry was slumped on the ground right next to the wall. The voice, as he could now see, had come from Ginny Weasley, who was crouched down next to his friend.

 

“Hey!” Draco hollered breaking into a run for the last few meters. “Don’t touch him!” He dropped to his knees next to his friend, looking him over. Shite. Harry had passed out. It was worse than Draco had thought. He should have just taken him to the infirmary to begin with.

 

The girl flinched back and looked to Draco with wide, terrified eyes. “Oh- I- I was just. He fainted! I was- I was going to help-!”

 

Merlin, he did not need her here. The girl was probably going to try and wake Harry with a kiss or something. Her crush on Harry was slightly creepy and obsessive sometimes. He wondered if Harry really noticed how often she stared at him. It was ridiculous. 

 

“Great. You can help.” He told her sharply, wanting her to get out of the way, “Go get Professor Snape. Tell him Harry’s been poisoned and I’m taking him to the hospital wing.”

 

“But- I could-”

 

“ _ Go!”  _ He ordered. He didn’t care what other help she thought she could be. He wanted her gone, and she was likely faster than either Crabbe or Goyle. She’d get the message to the professor in less time, and that would leave the two stronger boys to carry Harry.

 

She had the audacity to shoot him a glare, but before he could snap at her again she was back on her feet and sprinting down the corridor.

 

He turned his attention back to Harry, who was shivering on the stone floor. “Harry?” He shook his shoulder, but there was no reaction. “If you can hear me, we’re taking you to help.”

 

Crabbe had taken the spot where Ginny had been moments ago on the other side of the fallen Slytherin. Draco took the bookbag off from Harry and slung it over his own shoulder before Crabbe started to lift Harry up. It wasn’t much of a weight difference, but with how far Harry would need to be carried it was worth it. He stepped out of the way for Goyle to assist and they somehow managed to hoist up the limp form of Harry between them.

 

Goyle had set down the suspicious goblet with Harry’s juice in order to free his hands and help with Harry. Draco picked it up and followed after them. It was going to be a frustratingly slow trip to the hospital wing he realized. He screwed up. He didn’t think Harry would pass out. It would have been so much easier to help the boy walk, not carry him.

 

“Malfoy!” He heard someone call from ahead. 

 

Peregrine Derrick and Lucian Bole, the two Slytherin beaters, were running towards their group.

 

Bole reached them first, wand at the ready, “Here, let me.” The more experienced fifth-year student had Harry lifted from Crabbe and Goyle’s grasp with a spell, to their relief, and Draco’s. They would move so much faster this way. Bole turned and started guiding Harry’s floating body the way they had been heading.

 

Derrick explained while they hurried, “We thought something was up, so we started to follow after you. Ran into Weasley on the way and managed to get that Potter was poisoned from her stuttering. Marcus ran to get Snape just in case she chickened out.”

 

“Do you know who did this?” Bole asked, his voice icy, promising retribution. 

 

“No.” Draco replied. “I thought it might have been Weasley, as he seems likely, but he didn’t react in anyway when Harry left.” 

 

He told them all he knew of what happened, which wasn’t much. They didn’t know who did this, but if they did, no,  _ when _ they did, they’d be answering to all of Slytherin house.

 

-

 

Harry woke slowly.

 

Everything around him was blurry when he opened his eyes, but it was undoubtedly the Hospital Wing. His glasses were probably on the side table. He turned over in his bed to reach for them, but ended up groaning at the soreness in his abdomen.

 

“Ah, here, I’ve got you.” He felt himself be pushed onto his back again, then glasses pushed onto his face. “You’re not going to want to move around too much, yet. Professor Snape and Madam Pomfrey had to clear your stomach to get all of the poison out. Said that it’ll be tender for a while.”

 

“Poison?” Harry asked in alarm, feeling much more awake, and brought a hand to his stomach. He tried remembering what happened before he woke up here. He had started to feel bad during breakfast and decided to walk back to the dorm, but he didn’t remember making it there. As sick as he’d felt, he didn’t think he’d been  _ poisoned. _

 

“Yeah. I’ll fill you in on what we know in a bit. I’ve got to go let Madam Pomfrey know you’re awake first.” 

 

Draco scurried off to do just that and Harry looked to the tall windows. It was dark outside. How long had he been out for? Was Tom worried that he hadn’t written-

 

Tom.

 

Harry shot up in bed despite the protest of his stomach muscles. Where was his bag?  _ Where was Tom?  _ He twisted painfully to peer over the edge of his bed. His bag wasn’t in sight. Did someone take his things while he was unconscious? He went to swing his legs off the bed to look, but didn’t get to stand before he was caught.

 

“Oh no you don’t, young man!” For the second time in less than five minutes he was being pushed back into the bed. This time, however, he was left sitting up. A potion was pushed into his grasp by the Matron once he was maneuvered to her liking. “You’re not leaving that bed tonight, you hear me? You’re lucky your friends reacted so quick, this could’ve been so much worse. Drink up, now, that’ll lessen the soreness you’re no doubt feeling at the moment.” 

 

Harry obeyed, grimacing at the taste, but grateful to feel the pain lessen already. The quicker he did what she needed, the quicker he could figure out what happened to his bag. Madam Pomfrey took the empty glass back from him, muttering about dangerous botched potions as she did. She cast a few spells that Harry was unfamiliar with, looking pleased with the results. 

 

“It looks to be all out of your system now, dear.” She said, then quickly added with a sharp look when he opened his mouth, “That does  _ not  _ mean I’m letting you go, yet. You are staying the night. The potion you were poisoned with was brewed incorrectly and I want to be sure you don’t have any more reactions to it.”

 

Sighing, Harry slumped back into his pillows. “So, who did it?” He asked.

 

“The Professors haven’t figured it out, yet, but they will.” She said kindly.

 

Draco nodded in agreement with her, his face set in a serious scowl. “Yeah, don’t worry. Professor Snape will find who it was.”

 

The matron shot him a look, “ _ Or _ any one of the other Professors. He’s not the only one looking into this.” She corrected, “Now, it  _ is  _ late, but I will let you have half an hour of visitation  _ if  _ you are quiet. Harry will need his rest, so don’t rile him up.”

 

“Yes, ma’am.” The blonde smiled and pulled up a chair next to Harry’s bed.

 

She fixed him with a stern look, but left for her office at the other end of the ward.

 

Harry hardly waited for the door to shut behind her before he turned to Draco with questions. “Draco, my bag- did you see-”

 

“Woah, woah, don’t worry. I took it back to your room after we got you here, I know you’ve finished all your work so I thought you’d rather your stuff be there.”

 

Oh, that was good and it was probably for the best. Even if he wanted to write to Tom, it was better that the diary was safe. Also, the Hospital Wing might not be the best place to write in the diary. He was the only one in the wing right now, all of the other beds were empty, but anyone could walk in at any time. He didn’t think he would be able to resist writing to Tom if the diary was here.

 

Yeah. So it was a good thing that Draco had taken his bag back to his dorm. Still, it would be weird to not talk to Tom before bed tonight, like always. Would Tom be worried when he didn’t hear from Harry tonight?

 

“Thanks, Draco.” He ended up saying before he got too lost in thought about Tom. He focused on one part of what the boy had said. “So you got me here? What happened?”

 

“What do you remember?”

 

“I wasn’t feeling good, so I was going to go back to sleep. Uh, I don’t think I made it back there, though…” He vaguely recalled leaning against a wall and worrying when someone would find him. 

 

“Yeah, you didn’t get very far. I thought something was wrong and followed after. I should have just taken you here right away, but I wanted to see how Weasley reacted.”

 

“You think Ron- of course you think so.” Harry rolled his eyes at Draco’s continued suspicion of the other boy. “Ron wouldn’t do that.” 

 

“Well,  _ someone  _ did. You can’t deny that he’s been antagonistic towards you since the tryouts!” Draco said, “Plus, the potion was brewed incorrectly. It makes sense if it was him.”

 

Harry laughed at his friend’s conviction. “Ron isn’t the only person that is bad at potions and does not like me right now. Did he react in a way that made you think it was him?”

 

Draco looked put out at that, “No, he didn’t even seem to notice you left. He was busy talking with Granger. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t him, though.”

 

“Doesn’t mean it  _ was.” _ Harry said, then hurried to ask before Draco could continue arguing, “So what was the potion supposed to do?”

 

Draco looked like he did want to continue the argument anyway. Really, Harry knew Ron a lot better than Draco, so there was no point in arguing over this. 

 

Actually, Harry wasn’t sure anymore that Ron wouldn’t do that. With how vicious his comments on Harry had been getting, Harry was becoming less sure of how well he knew the boy. He didn’t want to think it was him, though. Not that it mattered, because even if he did think that Ron was responsible, he wouldn’t admit that to Draco. No need to encourage the other Slytherin.

 

“It actually wasn’t supposed to do much damage to you from what Professor Snape thinks it was. It was a simple pain potion, meant to give you the symptoms of something similar to the flu for a few days, but there was a wrong ingredient in it that made it react worse.” Draco allowed the switch in conversation, a little unhappily, “Professor Snape was able to figure it out from your goblet of pumpkin juice. He said, too, that if it was brewed correctly it wouldn’t have even had that bad taste you had at first. We wouldn’t have even known it was a potion that caused your sickness. Just would have thought it was natural.”

 

“That’s… odd. With how everyone has been acting, I would have thought that if someone was going to do something against me it would have been… flashier?” He didn’t know how to describe it, but he thought that the person who did this would want Harry to know that they did something. Not have him think that he just got sick, without knowing why, if it was brewed right and he didn’t taste- “Hey, why was I the only one affected? You had juice, too.”

 

“The potion was on your goblet, not in the juice. That’s why nothing happened to me or anyone else that had pumpkin juice from the same pitcher this morning.”

 

“How did they manage to do that?”

 

“No idea.” Draco shrugged. “It won’t happen again, though. I sent a letter to my father once you were taken care of here. He’s already sent his reply, along with the book I asked for. I’ll show you tomorrow at breakfast, there’s spells to check for potions and things in food.”

 

“Thank you.” Harry meant it, but hoped that it wouldn’t be necessary. Surely this wouldn’t happen again, but he appreciated Draco’s protection all the same.

 

“Might not even be necessary.” Draco said with a grin. Harry blinked. Was he reading his thoughts? “I’ll be surprised if anyone dares to try and hurt you again. Our entire house is in an uproar over this. More than usual, from what I’ve seen.”

 

“Why would they even be to begin with?”

 

“Really? You wonder  _ why _ ?” Draco sighed, like Harry should already know. But it sounded more fond than anything and Harry wondered if Draco came to expect to explain certain things to him by now. “An attack against any of us is an attack against  _ all  _ of us. Slytherins are united like that.”

 

The blonde Slytherin leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he did. “ _ And _ , with you being openly accepting of our traditions, I think you can understand that everyone’s feeling a little protective of you.”

 

“O-oh.”

 

Harry floundered for a moment, trying to think of something else to talk about. He didn’t want to think about how overprotective Slytherins seemed to be. In any time, apparently, with how Tom was, too.

 

“Ah, the game!” He finally said, “Who won? Did you see?”

 

“Did I see?” Draco repeated amused, “I’ve been here with you!” He laughed.

 

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Harry laughed with him.

 

“Well, I may not have seen it, but I know what happened. Like I told you it would, Hufflepuff won.”

 

“By how much? Did Gryffindor manage to get some points?”

 

“Hardly! They were  _ crushed. _ ” Draco said with a smug smile, “Only managed to get twenty points before Diggory caught the snitch.”

 

Oof. That would really hurt the team’s chances for the Quidditch Cup. They had a lot of time to practice before their final match of the year against Ravenclaw, though. That wasn’t until the end of May. He felt a pang of pity for Fay. Captain Wood was likely to go crazy with practices until that match.

 

“Well…” Harry eventually said, “The one good thing about me being here today is that the Gryffindors can’t blame me for their loss.”

 

From there, the conversation stayed light. The thirty minutes Madam Pomfrey allowed passed too fast, and Draco reluctantly left, promising to be back in the morning when Harry was released. Almost immediately Harry missed the distraction from his thoughts that Draco provided.

 

Thoughts on who wanted to poison him, and if something would happen again. Draco was confident that Harry would be fine. All of Slytherin would be on the lookout apparently. Still, he worried.

 

More than worried, he was annoyed. Almost angry. Were people really that mad at him for wanting to study the Dark Arts? Who were they to decide what he did? He wasn’t going to stop, that was for sure. Honestly, it made him want to learn more. Partly for self defense, now. 

 

Being under scrutiny as he was, he couldn’t do anything too showy. That was okay, some of the spells Tom had taught him were subtle. If he asked, Tom would be eager to share more with him. Maybe something  _ better. _ To get people to  _ back off. _

 

Tom wouldn’t just be eager, he’d be overjoyed. Harry, so far, had only denied learning a few spells that Tom had brought up. Not seeing himself ever wanting to use more violent types of magic, but now he could. Oh, he wouldn’t use them unless he had to, but he would be ready.

 

He had thought on what Snape said about Durmstrang. While it would be great to be able to learn the magic he wanted so freely, he would still much rather finish out his education here at Hogwarts. He wouldn’t be returning to the Dursleys anymore and would have a say in his living situation from here on out, but Hogwarts was still his first real home. He couldn’t imagine leaving.

 

The option, however, was a relief. Something that he could fall back on, should he run into an instance where he needed to use the magic he knew and was instead forced to leave this school. 

 

He wanted to talk to Tom about all of this now. He didn’t like having his friend out of reach.

 

It was just one night. He’d talk to Tom in the morning, first thing right after breakfast.

 

Now, if only he could fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a lot of Tom in this chapter, sadly, well see more of him soon though. But! Important STUFF, right? An update finally from Ruth! And Harry now knows that he’ll find out more over Easter at the Malfoy’s where he’ll be staying. Yaaaay (They can go home for Easter right? Ehhh Its happening anyway)
> 
> Oh, not super important, but I couldn’t find if Draco’s eagle owl has a name. Is there an accepted name in the fandom for him? Like I said, hardly important, but it had me curious. Same with the basilisk. I feel like Rowling would have named a thousand-year old giant snake that belonged to a founder, but I guess not? All I know of this series is from the books and movies. *shrug* All these things I never thought about until now.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long break in updates. I’m a mess. I have so much to do that, naturally, I got absolutely nothing done instead. Y’all know how that goes. 
> 
> Probably should have given this another read through before I posted it, but it’s longer than the other chapters, over 7k words, and I am not feeling that right now. Lol Hopefully there’s no massive mistakes.

It was no secret that Albus Dumbledore favored the Gryffindors even if he, or others, didn’t admit to it. Dumbledore could avoid acknowledging that fact, or outright deny it all he wanted, but it was plain to see in his actions. Or, as was sometimes worse, his lack of action.

 

Severus had grown used to the lack of care Dumbledore had for the Slytherin students. He did not like it, but he was used to it. Life was not fair and the Headmaster’s bias was nothing new, after all. He, too, had been affected by that when he was a student. 

 

He had been the victim of many of the  _ Marauders’ _ pranks during his school years. They varied in the level of danger they were to him, but their punishment, if it could even be called that, hardly did. When, no, they were caught, it was always the same. 

 

“ _ They didn’t intend to harm, I’m sure.” _

 

_ “I was just an innocent prank, my boy. I don’t believe they’ll do that again.” _

 

The worst they ever got was detention. They were never really punished, and so they did not have any reason to stop what they were doing. There were no repercussions to their actions.

 

Even when they pulled the worst ‘prank’ of all, they were let off easy. It was offensive to have even called it a prank, when really, it was an attempted murder. The only reason Severus was alive was because James Potter changed his mind at the last minute. Otherwise he would have been mauled to death by Lupin the Werewolf. 

 

Not that Potter had changed his mind because of what would happen to Severus. No, he’d worried about the fallout for him and his gang of friends.

 

What had Dumbledore done when he found out? Nothing! He had let the Gryffindors off with the equivalent of a slap on the wrist for his premeditated near-murder.

 

It wasn’t limited to just Severus and the marauders. Over the years he’d seen Dumbledore deny help to Slytherin students. Often taking the side of any student in another house over Severus’ own. He would dismiss any wrongdoing of a Gryffindor, no matter what it was, it seemed. 

 

For a year and a half Harry fell under that ridiculous protection more than any other student Severus had ever seen. The Headmaster even awarded the boy and his friends an obscene amount of house points for their end of the year stunt  _ after  _ the deadline for awarding points had passed. It was such an insult to Slytherin house that some of the other Professors were offended. Not that they’d say anything about it to Dumbledore.

 

Severus had thought, in that moment, as Dumbledore smiled and awarded the Gryffindors the cup, that it would be so satisfying to see Potter on the other end of that. 

 

Turns out, it wasn’t as satisfying as he imagined. In fact, it was unsettling to see that lack of care now turned to Potter. The boy had been poisoned and the headmaster did only minimal effort in dealing with the situation. 

 

Minimal effort was delegating the task of saving Potter to Severus and Poppy.

 

When Marcus Flint had come barreling into the great hall as the rest of the student body made their way out, Severus knew something was wrong. The Quidditch Captain was quick to share the necessary information with him, “ _ Potter’s been poisoned. Bole and Derrick are bringing him to the infirmary. We don’t know who did it. _ ”

 

His fellow Professors within hearing distance at least had the sense to look worried for Potter, even if some were disenchanted with the boy’s views at present. Dumbledore, however, did not. He’d merely tutted, “ _ That is unfortunate. I trust you can handle the boy’s treatment, Severus?” _

 

Unable to reply without saying something regrettable, he’d only nodded and left, as quickly as he could without running. He did not know how bad the poisoning was and would not waste time arguing with the Headmaster. It wouldn’t make a difference anyway.

 

By the time he arrived, passing Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherins who’d helped Potter waiting outside the infirmary, Poppy was already attending to an unconscious Potter. 

 

The poisonous potion was easily discovered, thanks to Draco’s quick thinking in preserving Harry’s goblet. 

 

The potion was botched. No surprise. Most of the students that Severus had been unfortunate enough to teach lacked any talent at all. The botched version of this potion turned out to be worse than what the potion was actually supposed to be. Whoever the untalented brewer was should feel lucky that the concoction hadn’t blown up in their face. Severus would have preferred that outcome.

 

Botched or not, once Severus was aware of what they were dealing with, a cure was simple. He and Poppy took the extra caution of emptying the boy’s stomach, just to be safe.

 

The simple solution did nothing to calm his ire. Potter, like him or not, was one of his Slytherins and he’d been obviously targeted. Most likely for his newfound interest in the Dark Arts.

 

Unfortunate that it was that the Slytherins only had Severus to turn to for protection from the rest of the school, he took their protection seriously. He’d find the idiotic student that did this. Dumbledore would, as always, keep them from any serious punishment, but Severus could make their life hell in other ways once he knew their identity.

 

The potion, if it had been brewed correctly, would have been tasteless. Potter would have had no idea that it was in his drink, nor would have anyone else. The boy would just have gotten sick. The fact that this potion was meant to be subtle should have made it easy to find the culprit. They wouldn’t have worried as much to cover their tracks, thinking that no one would have reason to suspect anything amiss in the first place. The potion, added to the goblet, as it was, would have been tampered with in the kitchens. 

 

The house elves would have been there and seen if someone had messed with the table settings before they were magicked up to the waiting tables in the Great Hall. All that he had to do was ask.

 

Dumbledore said no. 

 

The elves wouldn’t tell him anything. Why? Because according to the blasted old man, “ _ Where the kitchens are is no great secret, my boy. The house elves are busy and plenty of students visit them for snacks. I would not want to see a student wrongly blamed for something that turned out alright. _ ”

 

It was worse than normal.

 

The Headmaster did not want to discourage the students from attacking Potter. If anything, the way he handled this situation, by doing nothing, would only  _ encourage  _ the other houses. They would see that there was no reason to hold back of there was no real punishment. 

 

It was distressing.

 

Severus would have to dissuade any further attempts on Potter himself without being obvious. He didn’t need Dumbledore questioning why he was being protective of the boy. Not when Dumbledore had revealed that the boy might need to die for the greater good.

 

He was sure he could count on his older Slytherins to step up. They already had with their quick reaction to Potter being hurt. Just to be sure, he’d speak with them anyway.

 

-

 

Harry was up before Madam Pomfrey came to wake him.

 

He was anxious to leave the Hospital Wing. Sleep had not came easily during the night. He felt exposed in the large room. He’d been accustomed to sleeping in smaller spaces thanks to the Dursleys. The Gryffindor dorm had even taken some getting used to at first. Having his own space in the Slytherin dorms was far more comforting. And, here, in the wide-open and very accessible Hospital Wing, he was not comfortable. He felt vulnerable. 

 

The whole school had access to this place, he wasn’t safely tucked away in the dungeons with the rest of the Slytherins like he should be. Anyone, from any of the houses, could walk in at anytime. And  _ someone _ had been the reason he was there. He had been  _ poisoned _ . 

 

The anger he felt at the thought of someone in the school wanting to poison him had died down once night had really set in and the wing was dark and quiet. His fear of someone making another attempt while he slept had prevented any decent rest that he could have gotten. Instead, he woke up at any little sound. There were far too many little noises that sounded worse in the night.

 

The first ray of sunlight coming in through the large windows behind his bed was a relief. It was early, but it was morning and he didn’t feel the need anymore to try and sleep. If the Matron came by earlier to check on him he could be justified in being awake at this hour. 

 

Only the fear of her making him stay a second night if he left before she allowed, kept him from fleeing the wing entirely. Harry sat up and leaned back against the metal headboard. He kept his eyes on the doors to the wing at the end hoping the Matron would appear soon and free him from this place.

 

So, unable to leave and going back to sleep far from a possibility, he was stuck in his thoughts. He wrapped his arms around his knees as his mind brought up Tom, like always.

 

Merlin, he couldn’t wait to be able to speak with the older boy again. Harry needed his advice on how to protect himself. He’d know what to do, he always did. Tom was great like that.

 

He didn’t like not being able to talk to him since yesterday morning. 

 

While he had time to think about it, It was probably stupid of him to be so attached to Tom. 

 

He was only the memories of a boy from decades ago. But, the more he talked to Tom, the more he wished he was real. Finding out that he could go into the diary and  _ see _ him was amazing at first. The more it happened, though, the more he wished for more. Tom was older, but if he was real, he would still talk to Harry, right? They could eat lunch together, study in the library together, attend Quidditch matches together…

 

Well, maybe not. If Tom were to exist out of the diary, would he attend Hogwarts? Tom, real Tom, had already attended Hogwarts in the past, but his memory-self was still student-aged, right? He wondered if the Headmaster would allow a student to attend again in a situation like that. 

 

Definitely not if Harry was the one asking. Tom would have to pretend he didn’t know Harry for that to even have a chance of working. Even if it was unlikely for the memory of a former student to want to attend the school again, surely Tom would be the exception. 

 

Dumbledore didn’t like Slytherins, but Tom? There was no way he’d be turned away with how great of a student he was. How long had Dumbledore been at the school anyway? Had he even been at Hogwarts the same time as Tom? Even if the old wizard had been, that was decades ago and there was no way he remembered every student that passed through this school.

 

None of that mattered anyway. Tom was in the diary, just a memory, and Harry had no idea if this fantasy could even become a reality. It wasn’t the first time he had thought about it either. 

 

He’d spent too many nights wondering if there was a way to bring Tom out of the diary. Surely he’d want that, too? Though a few worries held him back from bringing up the subject with Tom.

 

What if Tom already wanted that, but knew it was impossible? If that was the case, then Harry bringing up the idea could upset him. Also, Harry could further upset him, if he thought that Harry was dissatisfied with their friendship in anyway. 

 

Tom was brilliant. The older boy could explain anything in a way that Harry would understand. Harry was far more dedicated to his studies now, yeah, but without Tom’s help he wouldn’t do nearly as well. With all that brilliance, if there  _ was _ a way to bring him out of the diary… well, wouldn’t Tom know and already said something?

 

His biggest worry, horribly enough, was not that Tom would be stuck in the diary, but that he would get out and  _ leave. _ Right now all he had was Harry. If he had the option to talk to others, would he still bother with Harry? A boy who grew up in a cupboard? Tom was smart, charming, and attractive to name a few traits. Would he.... Would he get a girlfriend? He was older, and from what Harry had seen, students that were Tom’s age had boyfriends or girlfriends. Harry wished the idea of Tom dating didn’t both frighten and anger him so much. 

 

Unbidden, the image of Tom calling a faceless girl ‘love’ came to mind. Of Tom sitting next to her at lunch, at their table in the library, cuddled up in the cold Quidditch box… Tom smiling at  _ her  _ and not  _ Harry. _

 

A sudden  **_crack_ ** __ echoing through the empty ward violently snapped him out of his spiraling thoughts. 

 

He jolted up and unclenched his hands that had somehow become fists, darting his eyes around the room for the source of the sound. For a second, Harry thought his anger at Tom’s non-existent girlfriend had triggered his accidental magic and broke something in the ward.  

 

From over the edge of the foot of his bed he glimpsed large bat like ears and wide, worried eyes. They shuffled over to the left and the rest of the creature came into view.

 

“Mister Harry Potter, sir!” Looks like Dobby the elf decided to show his face again. 

 

Once his heart rate settled back to almost normal after the shock, Harry leveled the elf with an unimpressed stare.

 

“Dobby is glad that yous is already up!” The elf continued with a wobbly, nervous smile.

 

Harry bit back a groan. It was too early to be dealing with the nervous, self-destructive wreck that was Dobby the house elf. Even if the elf meant well, his intentions never worked out. They either got him in trouble or harmed him in some way.

 

Wait. Harmed?

 

“Was it  _ you _ that poisoned me?” He asked annoyance quickly morphing back into anger. It wouldn’t be a surprise. Dobby’s idea of keeping him safe was questionable. It wouldn’t even be the first time that he ended up in the Hospital Wing either from the elf’s protection. He had an entire arms worth of new bones to thank the elf for.

 

“No! I would never, Mr Harry Potter, sir!” The creature looked depressed at the accusation. “Dobby wants to protect Harry Potter!”

 

Crossing his arms over his chest, Harry took a calming breath. Still frowning at the creature, he asked, “Then why are you here this time? If you wanted to warn me about the poison, you’re a little late.”

 

“No, not about that! Dobby didn’t know anything about poisons! If Dobby did he would have warned Harry Potter! Dobby is sorry!” The elf pulled sharply on his ears. His large eyes watered with obvious distress.

 

“Okay, okay! It’s fine, I believe you. “ He assured before Dobby started bawling. Better to just find out what the elf had to say and get him out of his hair. “So what great danger am I in right now Dobby? Whatever it is, you needn't worry, I’ll be leaving the school to stay with a friend in a couple weeks.”

 

At least this would go well. The elf had been telling him to leave the school for his safety for months and now he was. Temporarily, but still, maybe this would get the elf off his back for a while. Though he might have to worry about getting  _ back  _ to the school. He didn’t want another situation like missing the train to happen again.

 

“ _ Friend?”  _ Dobby squeaked alarmed, not relieved like he’d thought, “Harry Potter can’t be friends with him! That’s what Dobby is needing to warn you about!”

 

“What?” He managed to say through his bewilderment at the elf’s odd new worry. “Are… Are you telling me who not to be friends with now?”

 

“Dobby does not mean to offend, Sir! Buts Harry Potter is too trusting! You can’t be staying with- with…” Dobby let out a frustrated whine and pulled, again, on his ears. If this was a normal occurance it was a wonder that they were still attached to his head with the force that he pulled on them.

 

“With the Malfoys?” Harry prompted. Maybe the elf had the information wrong. Maybe he still thought he was friends with Ron and would be staying with him and he couldn’t because maybe Ron was the one to poison him? No, Dobby had said that he didn’t know about the poison. Something else, then? “Because that’s who I’m staying with. You think I’ll be in danger  _ with them? _ ”

 

The small elf nodded his head up and down rapidly causing his ears to flop around. Okay, no. The elf thought the Malfoys, not the Weasleys. “Then Harry Potter Sir understands? Dobby is so relieved.” Dobby mistook Harry’s shock as belief. Harry was offered a watery smile as the elf clasped his small hands together under his chin.

 

“What? No, I  _ don’t. _ Draco is my friend, why shouldn’t I stay with him?” Harry asked, growing more confused by this conversation. Honestly, what? Were house elves biased against dark families, too? 

 

Immediately the smile disappeared from the creature’s face. The high pitched whine returned, like Dobby didn’t know what to say. Or just couldn’t say. The elf settled with, “Harry Potter is a  _ good  _ wizard. Yous cannot stay with… with them because yous good wizard.” The elf pressed his little hands against his own chest as if to emphasize that  _ good. _

 

“And, what, they are  _ bad _ ?”  Harry snapped, offended for Draco’s family, who were the ones helping him escape the hell that was the Dursley household. “Is it because they’re  _ Dark _ , Dobby?” Harry seethed, “You must not know as much as you think you do about me, because I am, too.”

 

The elf stopped moving entirely. He didn’t blink or appear to breathe in his shock. He could fit in with the petrified students, Harry thought wryly. Maybe this would get the elf to back off. He could only hope.

 

“No, no, no, no, no…” The elf looked down, muttering to himself as he shook his head. “Harry Potter is no dark wizard.  _ Harry Potter  _ can’t bes dark. Gryffindors not dark wizards.”

 

Harry rolled his eyes with a huff. “Apparently you’re not as aware of what happens in this school as you think, either. I’m a Slytherin now, Dobby. Have been for more than two months.”

 

“Dobby heard, but Dobby did not  _ believe!” _ The elf wailed, fat tears leaking from his eyes as he leaned his small body on the side of the bed for support.

 

He  _ had  _ heard? How in the world did this elf find out the things he did? He was going to find out this time while he had him here, he just needed to calm him down. “Relax, I’m not going to curse you because I’m dark-” The elf heaved a sob at the word, and Harry rethought the idea of  _ not  _ actually cursing him. “Oh, stop crying! Where did you hear that the Malfoys are dangerous?”

 

Dobby pressed his face into the bed covers and shook his head, no doubt smearing tears (and probably snot) all over. Harry was glad he’d be leaving this bed soon. 

 

“Just tell me why you think so! Can’t you tell me that, at the very least?” He just wanted more information.

 

The elf’s sobs quieted down a bit and he slowly pulled away from where he had all but collapsed against the bed. Harry watched with disgust as the small creature sniffled and brought the back of his hand, then wrist and  _ the rest of his arm, _ across his face to wipe the snot from his nose.

 

The elf looked around, uncertain, before starting in a quiet voice that had Harry leaning forward, “Dobby shouldn’t be saying… Dobby wills have to punish his self for saying… but Masters-”

 

The door to the wing opened with a creak, and Dobby was gone with no more than a squeak and a  **_crack_ ** _! _

 

“Wait-!” Harry said already too late. He let out a frustrated sigh and looked to see who entered. 

 

Draco walked through the door and approached him with a look of confusion on his face. “Was that the crack of a house elf?”

 

Harry took a deep breath and reminded himself that it wasn’t Draco’s fault the blasted elf left before he could get actual answers once again. He was so close this time, too, but no, it was not Draco’s fault. “Yeah, how did you know?” 

 

“We have one, so I’m used to the sound.” Draco explained and sat down in the chair beside the bed, “The Hogwarts elves normally stay out of sight. Did you need something? Are you not feeling better?” Worry creeping into his tone more than curiosity.

 

“Oh, no, I’m fine. I’m just waiting for Madam Pomfrey to come by and let me go. The elf, er, he showed up on his own. Again. He’s been popping up since summer and he won’t leave me alone. Claims that he’s trying to protect me or some nonsense.” Harry grumbled. 

 

“Since summer? It’s not your elf, either? That’s… Why would it do that?” 

 

“Like I said, he thinks he’s protecting me from great danger. His protection has been anything but. So far he’s dropped a cake on my muggle aunt, charmed the entrance to the station closed to keep me from boarding the train, and sent a bludger after me.” Harry grimaced and held up the arm that had been the victim of that last stunt, “You were there for that one. Saw how well that went.”

 

“I…” Draco started, confusion clear on his face, “I don’t know what to say. That’s so unusual. Maybe it’s master is ordering it to do all these things. There’s plenty of people that don’t like you, but for it to have been happening since summer… that doesn’t make sense.” 

 

Harry agreed with that. Since summer his friends and enemies had switched places. 

 

“Yeah, I just wish it would stop.”

 

“So what did the elf do this time?” he asked, “Hey, the elf wasn’t the one that poisoned you, was it?” Draco leaned forward, thinking the same thing Harry had only minutes before.

 

“No, I asked him that myself.” Harry wasn’t sure he wanted to share what Dobby had said this time. He wasn’t going to listen to the elf, but he didn’t want to upset Draco with what he said about his family.

 

“So?”

 

“Er, he gave me a warning.”

 

“About what?”

 

Draco wasn’t likely to let this go. It wasn’t worth the effort trying to keep it from him, he decided. “He warned me from going to stay with you over easter, actually. I told him I was going anyway, of course. I didn’t believe the things he said.”

 

“He-  _ what?” _ Draco asked, incredulous.

 

“Seriously. I don’t know why he’s so insistent, but I don’t care what he says. From his actions I know I can’t really trust him to know what is best for me.” Harry assured. “I don’t even know how he knows that I’ll be staying with you!”

 

“What is this elf’s name?” Draco asked after a long moment of silence, though it looked like he knew the answer.

 

“Er, Dobby. Why?”

 

Draco sucked in a breath. “That’s  _ our  _ house elf.”

 

“Your elf?” Now it was Harry’s turn to sound incredulous.

 

Draco nodded, “I don’t know why he would act out against you like this, because certainly this isn’t something either of my parents would have ordered him to do and  _ I _ sure didn’t. He won’t be doing it again, though. I’ll be telling father about this right away.”

 

That was an unexpected relief. He never thought the elf would belong to the Malfoys, but then again, he hadn’t really considered who the elf worked for. It was great to know he wouldn’t need to watch out for any more mishaps that were supposed to be for his own good. He wondered if he should feel bad for the elf, though. He could see that he’d be in trouble, but that was fair, right? 

 

It was. He’d been causing problems for him for months.

 

“We’re not even supposed to have our personal elves here at Hogwarts! Not only has he been bugging you, but he could have gotten me in trouble! What was he thinking?” Draco’s frustration at the elf’s actions wiped any remaining guilt from his mind.

 

Luckily, Madam Pomfrey showed up a few minutes later, before Draco could descend too far into his annoyed ranting.

 

“Ah, you’re already awake, I see. I hope Mr Malfoy didn’t wake you.” She looked over at said boy accusingly. 

 

“No, no, I woke up on my own.” He was quick to say in the other boy’s defence, and added hopefully, “Am I alright to leave? Breakfast will be starting soon.”

 

“Yes, alright, let me see.” The matron preformed two quick spells, much like the night before, “Hmm, yes. Everything is all good. I had the elves bring you a change of your clothes for the day.” She gestured to the table next to his bed, where a pile of clothes sat that he hadn’t noticed before. “I’ll pull the curtains, and you can get dressed, then you’re free to go.”

 

“Thank you, Madam Pomfrey.” Harry said with a smile. 

 

Draco stood and moved away from the bed and she shut the curtains as promised. As quick as he could, Harry got dressed, ready to be out of the wing immediately. 

 

He finished and pulled back the curtains. 

 

“Now, really do try and keep out of here, Mr Potter. There’s only a few months of term left, surely you can stay healthy for that long.” The Matron sighed, hands on her hips.

 

“I’ll do my best.” He promised and left with Draco. 

 

-

 

While the diary was active, as in connected to a person, Tom was aware of the passing of time. To be be accurate, he was aware even without the connection, but he had no  _ need  _ to pay attention to time passing. While it wasn’t it was easy to fall into a sort of sleep for years, he was content in the knowledge that his existence was ensuring the life of the main soul. No change to his surroundings was good. 

 

Right now, he was connected to Harry, and so he felt the need to be aware of time again. 

 

It had been almost twenty-four hours since Harry had written in the diary. Since Harry had even  _ held  _ the diary. Harry had not even been around the diary. 

 

Tom was taking his time in solidifying the connection between them, unlike with the girl Weasley. He’d been cautious with her at first, of course. Especially in those first few weeks before she left for Hogwarts and was wary of a talking diary, as any magical-raised child should be. He waited until she was out of her parents reach and amongst other first-years that would not notice the signs of possession. Once he was sure of her trust in him and certain that she was not close enough to anyone to notice, he began draining her in earnest.

 

He was, perhaps, too rushed with his actions. The more he took from her, the more he could reach beyond the diary. He could not  _ see  _ beyond the confines of its pages, but he could sense. He could tell when she was around her year-mates and when she was around her brothers, they all had a feel to them. When he took more and was able to  _ hear,  _ even if it was a bit muted, he could not help himself with draining her faster, eager to have more of his senses. 

 

Possessing her to open the Chamber was intoxicating. Having a physical form after so long was incredible and it made him all the more ready to have his own back and not just temporary control of hers. 

 

He had pulled too fast and too hard and she freaked and cast him away so suddenly that she had broken their connection. He had known that she was trying to distance herself from him at the end. She kept him at the bottom of her trunk for a while, even, but at that point the connection was too strong and he was still able to drain her despite the distance that put between them while she was in class. He imagined she would think the diary was innocent after that distance and come back. She did, but only to throw him away.

 

There was no time to regret, however, when he was picked up a short amount of time later by Harry.

 

With Harry, he was being more cautious. The plan had long since changed from draining him. Well, not to the same extent.

 

He was taking energy from the boy, but not enough, or fast enough to harm him. Going slow was worth it if it meant that Harry would free him from the diary himself one day. Tom knew he would. The boy had already come so far, and Tom was willing to wait for this. 

 

So slow it was. He never possessed Harry, resisted the temptation of being alive for only a night. And, now, after nearly three months with Harry he had just begun to be able to sense the world around the diary again. 

 

With that limited sense, he was aware that Harry had not been around the diary at all in almost a full day. There was a brief moment where Tom had felt  _ her  _ presence. Ginevra Weasley was much too close to Harry. He did not fear her taking back the diary, not with it’s spelled disguise. He did, however, did not like her around Harry. Luckily, Draco’s presence arrived soon after and she left.

 

He would have been content with that, except it was Draco that was now the main presence. Harry was farther away. Tom did not know why Draco was suddenly holding his diary. He had some theories. Ones that only got worse when he felt the distance grow until even the young Malfoy left him alone. 

 

The only comfort was that he was left in familiar territory. He was in the dorms. 

 

In Harry’s dorm.

 

Tom was not worried. Everything was fine. He just needed to wait for Harry to come back.

 

That time didn’t come until after breakfast the following morning.

 

When Harry began to write, Tom pulled him in maybe a little too quickly. Or he might not have been controlling his expression as well as he thought, because Harry had looked at him nervously as he stuttered out a  _ Good Morning  _ and picked himself up from the floor.

 

There was also the fact that Tom had remained seated, instead of helping Harry up from his fall into the room like usual. 

 

“What happened?” He was not going to wait longer for answers. Visibly, he could see Harry was fine, but something had happened and Tom would know what. Now.

 

“A lot happened.” Harry sighed as he flopped into the chair opposite Tom in the diary’s common room. “Do you want the good news or the bad news first?” 

 

“Whatever bit of news is the reason you did not write last night.” Or were not even in the dorm at all, he wanted to add, but did not want to clue him in to how aware he was.

 

“Okay, the bad news, then.” Harry looked away nervously. Tom noted that he was anxiously twisting his fingers in his lap. “So you know, I’m fine. Draco and some of the other Slytherins got me help quickly, but I, er, was poisoned at breakfast.”

 

Tom had no idea what expression he was making to that disturbing revelation of Harry’s, but the boy held his hands up placatingly and quickly continued, “Like I said, I’m fine! I had to spend the night in the Hospital Wing though, just to be sure. Madam Pomfrey is cautious, you know. And Snape was there to help as well, from what I heard.”

 

“Who  _ dared _ ?” Tom demanded lowly as he rose from his seat, almost slipping into a hiss in his fury. He looked closer at Harry’s form for any sign that Harry was not as well as he claimed. When Harry entered the diary, his body here mirrored his body outside of it completely. They had discovered this previously when Harry had developed bruises from the Valentine-delivering- dwarf that tackled him.

 

“Ah, no one knows. But the Professors are looking into it.”

 

Tom scoffed, “They won’t look very hard.” 

 

He was already thinking up possible suspects when Harry agreed. “Yeah, I don’t think they will either.” Harry looked a little dejected at that and Tom wanted to add them to his mental list of targets for making Harry feel that way. “That’s why I want you to teach me how to protect myself better. They won’t look out for me anymore, if they ever really did to begin with, and I want to be able to protect myself.”

 

Tom was still trying to calm down the rage inside of him at the thought of someone poisoning Harry, but a thrill cut through the haze at Harry’s words. Did he mean-?

 

“Some of the best ways are more Dark than you have been comfortable with until now.” He tested, staring down intently at the boy still seated in front of him.

 

Harry met his gaze evenly. “I don’t care anymore. I want to learn them.” He sounded determined. Sure of his decision.

 

Harry should never have been poisoned, but Tom would gladly accept this decision of Harry’s as a temporary appeasement. He would enact his own revenge later, somehow. “We will make them regret.”

 

Yes, he could be satisfied for now that this was hopefully the last push Harry needed. He breathed in deeply through his nose, calming himself down as much as he could.

 

“So you said that there was good news and bad news.”

 

Harry’s face lit up with excitement. “Yes! I finally heard from the person who is handling my case! I won’t be going back to the Dursleys.” Harry’s smile was bright. “I don’t know where I’ll be going, or who will take me in, yet, but I won’t be going back there and that’s because of you, Tom.”

 

Ah, that  _ was  _ good news. Tom thought, pleased, as Harry flung himself out of his chair to crush Tom in a hug. “I’ll never have to see them again!” Harry gushed, though the words were slightly muffled with his face pressed into Tom’s robes. Tom wrapped his arms around the smaller boy with a satisfied smile.

 

No, Harry would have to see those wretched muggles again, Tom thought.  _ Unless _ , Harry gave indication that he wanted them dead. That would be a pleasure that Tom would gladly provide.

 

“That is excellent, Harry. I am happy to hear that this worked out now. There is plenty of time left for you to be able to decide on where you will go for your summers before the end of the year. Has the person who contacted you given you options yet?”

 

“I’ll be discussing it with Ruth, that’s who has been working on my case, over the Easter Holidays. And I’ll be doing that at Draco’s place! He invited me to stay with him!”

 

The Easter Holidays? That would be two weeks outside the reach of the Headmaster. That would be valuable time that he could utilize.

 

Harry pulled out of his embrace, cheeks slightly pink. Tom let him go and returned to his seat, “That is kind of them to do.”

 

“Yeah.” Harry agreed, smile shining on his face. He had remained standing where he was instead of sitting like Tom. “Draco’s actually really nice. It’s hard to believe that I didn’t want to be friends with him at first. He even missed the Quidditch game yesterday to sit with me in the Hospital Wing.”

 

Tom tried his best to not lose the good mood he was in at the sudden change to talking about the Malfoy heir so fondly. 

 

“It’ll be nice to just be around Draco without the rest of the school. He acts different around each group.” Harry rambled on, “Ah! And he said we could fly our brooms at his place, there’s plenty of room!”

 

“Do you miss flying? I thought you were okay with not being on the Quidditch team?” If Harry wanted to go flying Tom would try to make that happen here in the diary. It would not be the same. He kept the scenery of the diary to indoors for a reason. The second he stepped out of the castle it was impossible to ignore the fact that everything here was so unreal. 

 

There was no warmth from the sun, nor cool relief in the shade. The wind, too, was lacking, but maybe it would be enough for flying on a broom.

 

“I miss just being in the air. Quidditch was fun, because I was good at it and it came easily to me. But I am still okay with my decision to not be on the team.”

 

Tom did not have time to bring up his possible solution before Harry seemed to remember something and said, “Ah! I should probably go. I told Draco I’d only be up here for a moment while he sent a letter. I don’t want him to come looking for me.”

 

“Of course, love.” Tom conceded easily, “Be wary today, however, until we can protect you better. We will start on your new lessons as soon as the chance arises.”

 

“Thank you, I will.” Harry smiled and was gone, leaving Tom to ponder over the new developments and plot his next move.

 

_ Draco this  _ and  _ Draco that. _ Merlin, Harry better not be developing feelings for the blonde Slytherin. For the Malfoy Heir’s sake. The worst part of that would be that Tom encouraged that alliance-turned-friendship. 

 

Malfoy was the least of his problems right now, because Harry had been  _ poisoned. _

 

Tom seethed at the idea that anyone would dare harm Harry. He was glad the boy had left the diary for now, so he would not need to control his anger any longer. As well as his frustration.

 

Harry had been poisoned and Tom could have done nothing to help him. Tom had not even  _ known  _ that it was happening and that was unacceptable. Teaching Harry to protect himself was going to be a good start, but he would not be satisfied with just that.

 

He needed a body. 

 

He had been content for the years he spent without someone writing in the diary. He was a horcrux, and his purpose was to stay hidden and tether the main soul to the living world. Once he had been awoken, that changed. He wanted out.

 

That had been the plan since the youngest Weasley picked up his diary, but he had been fine with delaying it for Harry. Now, the need for a body was urgent once more.

 

He wanted to live again. 

 

Ginny Weasley was going to be the needed sacrifice once he had siphoned enough of her magic and soul. That was, until she threw him away in suspicion. He had been to sure of himself with her. Brushed off her worries without really reassuring her. He had been so distracted, thinking on how close he was to being real again that he had been careless. It should have never gotten to the point that the girl had been suspicious of him.

 

Definitely not to the point that she felt that she needed to get rid of the Diary.

 

He could not regret that, however.

 

Her tossing him away as she had, had led to him finding Harry. Or, well, Harry finding him.

 

His ability to protect Harry was limited as long as he was confined to the pages of the diary. He could teach him all the spells he wanted, but he could not physically protect the boy. For that he needed a body. 

 

He was woefully unprepared for this.

 

Tom wanted to regain a physical form, but his plans on  _ when  _ that would happen was now changing.

 

He needed to start convincing Harry to assist him in leaving the diary. Originally, he’d planned on waiting, slowly bringing the boy around to the idea. Because, while Tom could plainly see that Harry would love to have Tom exist outside the diary, he would not be alright with the way to do it.

 

Harry was gradually opening his mind to the darker spells, but he was not going to be alright with murder. Tom had expected to work his way up to that over a much longer span of time. Years if needed. Now, though, Harry was a target with his open acceptance of the Dark. Tom needed a body to protect what was his. Preferably, he would be able to get the boy to agree to this during the summer break. Easter was an option, too, but that soon was not worth the risk. 

 

So, summer was the goal now. Harry would be out of Dumbledore’s gaze and whatever family Harry ended up with would most likely be Dark. 

 

Once Tom had his body…

 

If that was to happen, he had to start working on convincing Harry now. There were only three months to go before school let out. He had made good progress with the boy already, so he was confident in this working. 

 

The only setback was that he would need to explain the process to Harry. Harry would have questions. There was no way around that. Hiding things from Harry would only foster distrust. Harry would find out that Tom was more than just memories, but half of a soul. A Horcrux.

 

Undoubtedly, Harry would wonder  _ why _ Tom had needed to make one. That would lead to more questions, or Harry looking for answers elsewhere.

 

So he would need to tell Harry what his plans for the wizarding world were, and why he thought he would need the Horcruxes to guard himself. The problem with all this was that, in telling Harry all this, he would surely put together all the facts and figure out that Tom was Voldemort. Or suspect. And Tom did not want the boy figuring that out on his own. He needed to tell him before that. It might not go well, but it would go better than the alternative. 

 

Tom wanted to believe that Harry would not turn away from him, but Tom was not going to get everything he wanted by believing. Did not hope for things to come true. He was who he was because he took action and planned. For even this, he would have a backup plan. If he didn’t need it, then good. But he wouldn’t be caught without.

 

That meant he would need to dedicate more of his energy to strengthening the bond they already had. He had been cautious so far with how much he took from Harry which resulted in the bond not being as strong as it could be. He would fix that now, even if Harry noticed a little exhaustion.

 

The bond would be strengthened so that Harry would not be able to cast him away like the girl had done. He would be ready. 

 

Harry would know everything soon. For Tom’s plans over the summer to work, Harry would need to. A week or two more could be spared at most, for Tom to ensure his own safety. 

 

Harry would accept this part of Tom, like he did the rest of him. He had to.

 

But… if Harry did not, it would not matter. 

 

Tom would not allow Harry to escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t know how fast I’ll be with updates from here on out. I decided to go back to school and hopefully finish my degree and I’m currently job searching. :( Thank you to everyone for being so patient with me so far!
> 
> Also, Tom's crazy was showing a little at the end, huh?


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a while, huh??? I'm so sorry that it's been months. I completely bit off more than I could chew with a certain class. It was something I thought I understood very well but ended up struggling to stay above passing right from the start. I felt so stupid the entire time until about a week ago, when the teacher sent out an announcement to all the students in the course and I noticed that “all” was 8 people. We started off with just short of 30 people in this online course. Lol So, even if I didn’t understand crap all, I stuck to it and that made me feel a little better. Plus, I passed and that’s all that matters for the degree, not that I actually know anything, right????
> 
> I’m hoping to get back to more regular updates, but things might still be slow for a while. The water level on the lake we live on is a good foot higher than normal at least. It’s already started to come over our seawall and is still rising. The last few days we’ve been filling sandbags and moving as much as we can out of the basement, plus things in the garage being moved off the floor.

Harry stared at the numbers the spell  _ tempus _ brought up in front of him and groaned. 

 

He’d slept in even later today.

 

So far this week, each day he had been sleeping in later and later. Not to the point that he was in danger of being late to class or missing breakfast entirely, but it was still significantly later than his usual. He had even gone to bed a little earlier last night to help with his recent exhaustion. Not that it seemed to have helped.

 

It had to be stress wearing him down, along with his dark arts lessons that had started up with Tom. As anxious as he was to start them, Tom had convinced him to wait a week after the poisoning incident, to make sure of his recovery. Harry had been reluctant to wait, but Tom, of course, had been right, he might not have felt it immediately, but he had felt the effects the rest of the week.  

 

If he was this tired from the new dark spells even after allowing his body to recover a little first, then it was good that he didn’t protest Tom’s decision. As requested, Tom had stepped up the power of the spells he was teaching him. The dark spells, while exhilarating to cast, were incredibly  _ exhausting _ . 

 

Granted, most of them he could not really use as they were intended to be. He couldn’t just go around practicing skin-searing or bone-bending curses on other students. Even  _ if  _ it was tempting. Honestly, if the punishment wasn’t expulsion, he probably would have cursed someone already. With everyone knowing that he was accepting of the Dark Arts, it was awfully stupid of them to goad him like they were.

 

Since cursing classmates was currently  _ not  _ an option, he was limited to yet another variation of the creature summoning spell for things to practice on. This time with a variant for rats, as spiders were lacking in gooey insides and the idea of using snakes was repulsive because they could talk back. Not that people  _ wouldn’t  _ if he were to practice on them, but snakes had never done anything wrong to him.

 

So, every day, after he’d finished his  _ good _ , Hogwarts-approved,  _ light-based  _ coursework for the day, he joined Tom for lessons on the other end of the spectrum. He didn’t regret starting up these lessons, even if he wanted nothing more than to curl back up in his comfy bed and sleep for several more hours.  _ At least _ , he reminded himself,  _ it’s Friday. I can sleep in tomorrow _ . 

 

Still, that didn’t change anything  _ right now _ , and if he stayed in bed any longer he ran the risk of falling back asleep and actually being late. Harry pushed himself into a sitting position with a yawn.

 

There wasn’t time to really talk to Tom, but he grabbed the diary from his side table anyway. Even if it was only a few short words, he made a point to tell his friend ‘good morning’ or whatever happened to be appropriate for the time. 

 

_ Morning, Tom! I slept a little late, so I’ll have to write to you later. I’m fine, just a little tired today.  _ Harry scribbled, a little less neat than usual in his drowsy state.

 

_ If you are sure.  _ The older Slytherin’s neat scrawl replied mere seconds later,  _ Take it easy today regardless, I would hate for you to be too tired for tonight.  _

 

_ I’ll be fine! I plan on excusing myself to bed earlier tonight. Draco’s noticed how sleepy I’ve been, too, so I won’t have to worry about upsetting him if I don’t feel like hanging out. He’ll probably insist I go to sleep instead. _

 

_ How considerate.  _ Tom wrote back,  _ Then, I look forward to seeing you earlier. _

 

_ Me, too! _

 

Harry smiled down at the diary a moment before closing it and forcing himself out of bed. 

 

He tucked the diary away in his bag, newly protected with one of the less dark spells Tom had taught him. It had to be, because it was the most likely of the spells to be noticed by anyone else. It wouldn’t protect Harry, but his things instead. Something he’d already known to be a problem when other kids didn’t like you, thanks to Dudley and his gang taking and breaking anything Harry could maybe call his own. 

 

This one would be a  _ deterrent  _ to anyone with ill intentions towards him. Painful, but not  _ too _ painful. Enough to keep people from messing with or taking his things, but not enough to raise any concerns about the type of magic protecting them.

 

So, with the Diary and the rest of his school things safe, he hurried through his morning habits after another quick  _ tempus _ informed him that it was nearing time that Draco would come looking for him. 

 

Before he was poisoned, he would make the walk up to the great hall with Draco just as many times as he did alone. He knew Draco preferred to walk together, but he never was upset when Harry left early.

 

Now, it was impossible to make the walk by himself. Draco was making a point to stick to his side and, with him, Crabbe and Goyle. It hadn’t happened yet, but Harry had a feeling that if Draco was ever not present when Harry was leaving the common room, one of the older students would be right there instead.

 

It was more attention than he was used to and it was a bit smothering. Though, it  _ did _ feel good to know that his house was looking out for him.

 

-

 

Harry breathed a sigh of relief when the poison detection spell Draco taught him did not find anything in his food or drink. There hadn’t been any other attempts, as far as he knew. The older Slytherin years were incredibly attentive and likely intimidated any one else from trying. 

 

Watchful or not, Harry wasn’t going to depend on them entirely. He’d been thankful to Draco for showing him the spells, but he still clarified their reliability with Tom later on. Being poisoned hit him harder than he was going to admit out loud to anyone, except maybe Tom. Despite all the dangers he’d faced last year, and even some this year, he never felt truly unsafe in the castle until now. 

 

It might be because it happened out in the open, where he felt safest, surrounded by his own housemates. Or, it might be because no one outside of his house seemed to care. 

 

Whatever it was, it got him thinking about Snape’s suggestion again.

 

“Say, Draco, did you ever consider going to Durmstrang instead of Hogwarts?” Harry asked once Draco had finished with his own series of spells to check their food and drink.

 

“Durmstrang? Not seriously, no. It would be great to learn the things they offer there, but my family has gone to Hogwarts for more generations than I care to list at this hour.” He began piling his plate with breakfast, “What brought this up?”

 

“It was something Professor Snape mentioned as an alternative for me after that argument with Ron  _ Weasley _ .” Harry finished awkwardly. He was trying to not be so familiar with Ron’s name anymore now that it was obvious that friendship was not going to be possible again, but after a year it was odd to go by last names. He found himself saying his full name instead sometimes.

 

“Oh.” Draco paused to think a moment, luckily not about Harry’s slip, “Well, I can understand why he’d suggest that. Durmstrang is better for people that are openly  _ dark _ .”

“Why don’t more families go there, then?”

 

“Who says they don’t?” At Harry’s look he continued, “The only students here that are supportive, even quietly, of the dark are Slytherins. That’s only a fourth of the school. Dark families aren’t that outnumbered, but it looks like it here because families that usually sorted into other houses that are Dark have left. Slytherin house is the only one that hasn’t become less welcoming to that magic.”

 

Harry stayed silent at that, trying to imagine students in other houses practicing the Dark Arts. 

 

“Mum likes to bring it up once in a while how regretful it is that some of her school friends sent their children elsewhere for school.” Draco laughed lightly. He paused for a moment, unsure before continuing, “I hope you stay here, though.”

 

“Why, would you miss me?” Harry joked.

 

“As if.” Draco replied with a grin, “No, I’d probably switch schools, too. I just think it would mean more for you to stay here.”

 

“You’d… you’d go with me?” Harry sent him a questioning look. He lost his old friends when he switched  _ houses.  _ There wasn’t rivalries between the schools, as far as he knew, but he kinda thought that while Draco wouldn’t hate him for leaving, the distance would bring an end to their budding friendship. The other boy wanting to go, too hadn’t crossed his mind.

 

Not wanting to give the other boy a chance to say he was only kidding, Harry asked, “Why would it mean more for me to stay?”

 

“Er, on account of your  _ ancestry.” _ Draco said, dropping his voice to a whisper and leaning in. “This is your school more than it is for anyone else.”

 

Harry blinked at him. Sometimes Harry forgot that Draco still believed that Harry was the Heir of Slytherin. “Oh. Yeah, I guess.”

 

Should he tell Draco he wasn’t? The blonde had proven to be a good friend, it didn’t feel right to keep on fooling him like this. But, he might not believe him at this point if he said he was not the Heir. Or, worse, he might believe him and then be mad that Harry lied.

 

He’d ask Tom what he thought tonight. 

 

For now, Harry just nodded and started eating.

  
  


-

 

It was clear to Draco, and everyone else that cared, that something wasn’t right with Harry. He’d been tired since he was poisoned two weeks ago, though more this week than the last. Draco had also noticed, quite quickly, that Harry was quick to brush off concern. It was better to feign a little nonchalance than approach him too directly about his well being. The other boy would do his best to hide any problems and pretend to be okay.

 

Draco could keep a better observation if he didn’t clue him off on how concerned he was. 

 

So, when Harry announced to their little group at barely past seven o’clock on a  _ Friday night _ that he’d be going to bed, well, Draco merely smiled in exasperation. “Alright, but I hope you can stay up late enough tomorrow to look over my paper.” He gestured with his quill-free hand at the parchment in front of him.

 

“I’m sure I can manage that.” Harry rolled his eyes. “‘Night.”

 

“Goodnight.” Draco replied, looking back down to his paper as Harry walked away.

 

Of course, he  _ did  _ want Harry to check his paper. Having someone who wasn’t Crabbe or Goyle look over his work for errors was wonderful. Harry, too, always pointed out things he hadn’t thought about, like he was getting the material from another source other than their textbooks. Some day he’d ask for book recommendations from him.

 

He waited until Harry’s footsteps trailed off and the dark-haired boy disappeared from sight before he set his quill aside next to the open jar of ink. His half-written paper could wait, he couldn’t concentrate on it while he was thinking about Harry’s health.

 

“It’s not even eight yet.” Goyle spoke up, looking away from his game of Wizard’s Chess with Crabbe at the other end of their table. The game had gotten nowhere in the past forty minutes. The both of them much preferred exploding snap, but knew enough to not play the loud game while Draco was working on an assignment. Some of the pieces looked relieved at the player’s distraction and sat down. “That’s earlier than even yesterday. D’you think he’s sick?”

 

Crabbe, too, had no problem abandoning the game and scrunched his brows together in thought, “Do you think that something happened again that we missed?”

 

“No, I doubt it.” Draco denied, “We’ve been watching and so have the upper years.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, “Unless you saw something suspicious?” They shook their heads.

 

Really, they had been diligently watching out for anything even the smallest bit suspicious. With the poison detecting spells his father sent along, he was certain that nobody had been able to pull off the same type of assault. Or would ever again. There  _ was  _ the possibility that Harry had not completely recovered from the poison, however unlikely. Madam Pomfrey was good at what she did and was one of the few adults in the school that didn’t let house bias affect her job. 

 

If she wasn’t enough, Snape, a  _ potions master, _ certainly was, and they both had been present to heal Harry that morning. No, whatever was causing the increasing fatigue in his friend did not stem from that incident. 

 

It might just be nothing, sometimes people were just tired and no one could say that Harry didn’t have a lot going on right now. He was under constant scrutiny from the rest of the school, faculty included. Something that appeared to bother him more than Draco had picked up on, if their conversation at breakfast had been anything to go by. 

 

He stuck by what he said, though. He hoped Harry didn’t feel the need to leave Hogwarts for Durmstrang, or any other school. But, he could switch schools with him. It wouldn’t even take much to convince his parents of the idea if he needed to. 

 

He already planned on talking to his father over the break about the situation at school. There wasn’t anything Draco could do about the professors, but his father was on the Board of Governors and could bring up safety concerns and be taken seriously. Unfortunately, it was something best discussed in person, so it had to wait until break. 

 

With luck, this weekend would give Harry the rest he clearly needed in order to get through one more week before break. If it was the pressures of the rest of the school, then the week away with him would be perfect. But, he couldn’t help his paranoia that something else was up. That it was something more than just stress. 

 

He’d at least let it be for another couple days, let Harry get as much sleep as he wanted this weekend. But, if he was still not improved at all by Sunday, he wouldn’t wait for the holiday and go to Professor Snape.

 

“Malfoy.” He looked up at the sound of his name to see Derrick had approached their table. The fifth-year student didn’t take the open seat, not that Draco expected him to, “You’ve been sticking close to Potter, any idea what’s wrong with him? He looked like he was going to pass out right where he sat.”

 

All of Slytherin house had been keeping an eye out for trouble regarding Harry. The Quidditch team, however, did most of the intimidating. At least one of them would stick close to Harry and Draco when they could outside of the safety of their Common Room. 

 

Of them, Peregrine Derrick, one of the beaters that had run to Harry’s aid, had been doing more than that. He was the least threatening of the older players and had been quietly asking around for any possible leads on who the attacker was. 

 

Intimidation was great and all, but not always. Especially when dealing with the house elves. You could only intimidate them so much before they broke down and you couldn’t understand them anyway through their blubbering. Still, it hadn’t mattered, as asking them had been a dead end. The Headmaster had already ordered them to not tell anyone about who was in the kitchens that day. 

 

Derrick had been able to gather some good news, at least. The elves were to prevent any further tampering and, even better,  _ if  _ anyone tried again, Derrick had been able to convince one that she’d let him know ‘ _ since he cared so much about his friend.’ _

 

“According to him? Nothing, just tired.” Draco scoffed. “I will talk to our head of house if he doesn’t improve soon, though.”

 

“Good, he’ll know what to do.” The taller boy nodded. He didn’t move away, looking hesitant.

 

“Was there something else? Have you found anything?” Draco asked. Next to him, Crabbe stood up, like he was ready to go take care of whomever their target might be immediately.

 

“No. No real clue yet.” He denied, quickly before any excitement could build. Draco let out a disappointed sigh and Derrick continued, “It’s about the holidays. Potter will be staying at your manor, correct?”

 

He nodded, knowing where this was going, but not stopping him.

 

“My family would like to extend an invitation your yours and Potter to join us for a dinner, if you are able.”

 

It wasn’t the first invitation they’d received. Draco  _ loved  _ the attention.

 

“I appreciate the offer, and I am certain my Mother and Father do as well, but we will have to decline.” He said, trying to not look too smug. 

 

Two weeks of break really was not a lot of time. Well, it wasn’t once his mother had been informed of Harry’s acceptance of the invitation to stay over the break. She’d jumped right into planning their days. There was also Harry’s meeting, or  _ meetings  _ with the Lady helping him leave his muggles behind.

 

“ _ Harry _ and I have quite a lot planned already.” He grinned, taking pleasure that he was one of only a few on a first name basis with the boy in their house, “If that changes, we’ll contact you.”

 

“Another time, then.” The taller student conceded with a nod. He turned to go rejoin his group by the fireplace.

 

Draco smiled as he thought about the upcoming break. Yeah, everything would be fine. Harry just needed to get away from this mess of a year for a bit. 

 

“Are you trying to hog Harry to yourself over break?” Crabbe, still standing next to him, asked. He’d been present for a good number of other invitations. “You haven’t even invited us over.”

 

“Oh, sit down, would you?” He scowled without bite, ignoring the question. He wasn’t  _ hogging  _ Harry. They were friends. And his mother really did have their weeks booked. He smiled.

 

Crabbe went to reclaim his seat only to trip forward knocking the table’s contents off-balance, including Draco’s inkwell.

 

“Oi!” Draco cried, picking up his ruined paper with one hand. He could try and spell off the spilled ink, but it wouldn’t be a perfect fix, and he’d have to rewrite. “You clumsy idiot.”

 

“S-someone pushed me!” The bigger boy turned to see, but no one else was near.

 

“There’s no one there you oaf!” Draco grouced as he righted what was left of his ink.

 

“Was it a  _ ghost _ ?” Goyle asked, eyes wide. 

 

Draco huffed, annoyed. “Ghosts can’t  _ touch  _ people. He just tripped.” He stared down at his ruined assignment with dismay. The break really couldn’t get here fast enough.

 

-

  
  


Harry woke up slowly, feeling incredibly disoriented.

 

There was someone running their fingers through his hair, which felt nice, but he had no idea what led to this. 

 

Letting sleep reclaim him was incredibly tempting. He was so tired and he felt safe with this person-

 

Wait,  _ who _ was this person?

 

Feeling far more awake than he did seconds ago, Harry blinked open his eyes to find Tom smiling down at him. Smiling  _ down  _ because Harry had his head in the older boy’s lap. Shock kept him in place for several seconds longer until Tom’s smile sharped at the edges into a smirk, “Comfy, love?”

 

Harry shot up off of Tom and the couch he’d been on to the floor in a panic. He could feel his face heating in embarrassment. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to-”

 

_ Mean to what? Fall asleep on you?  _ Harry... didn’t even remember going into the diary. He- the last thing he’d remembered was returning to his dorm. He had  _ planned _ on talking to Tom, maybe doing another lesson. Just for a little while before bed, but he didn’t remember getting that far. He didn’t even remember stepping more than a foot into his room. 

 

“How did I get here?” He asked, after he got to his feet, staring at Tom in confusion. “I- I mean, I don’t remember coming here…?

 

“I have something I wanted to talk to you about.” The smirk slipped, and Tom’s face took on a more friendly smile.

 

It did nothing to soothe Harry’s growing unease. Something was  _ off.  _ Everything looked the same, the diary’s version of the common room… but something was  _ off.  _ He had no idea what.

 

“Ah, okay, I just- how did-?”

 

“How did you get here? Like I said, I wanted to talk to you.” Tom said, “It may take some time, so I brought  _ you  _ somewhere that we won’t be disturbed.”

 

“The diary? How is this different than any other time?” Harry thought about how he didn’t even remember closing the door to his room. It wasn’t that late, he had retired early again, anyone could come down looking for him. Tom could tell what time it was, he’d know that that might happen...

 

“Not the diary. I brought  _ you _ somewhere safe.”

 

Why did that sound so wrong? Was that why he couldn’t remember? What had Tom done? “You brought  _ me…  _ but how?” And, maybe just as important, “Where?”

 

“There is a place in the school that only the two of us can reach and it happens to be one of the things I wanted to talk about.” Tom replied, skipping over answering how he had supposedly moved Harry somewhere without his knowledge. “Though, that part can wait a little longer. Please sit.”

 

Harry didn’t really want to wait, “What place is that?”

 

“ _ Harry _ .” Tom said with a sigh, like Harry was being unreasonable, “There is much to discuss. Would you have a seat so we can begin?”

 

Still uncomfortable, but unwilling to argue, Harry took a seat on the couch opposite the older Slytherin. 

 

“Thank you, Harry.” He smiled, “There has been something on my mind for the last few months, since I realized no one was taking care of you. I have done what I could from in here, but with recent events, I feel like you need me as a more physical presence.”

 

Was Tom implying…? “Do you mean you can come out of the diary?” He said in an excited rush, unease forgotten in an instant at the possibility. 

 

“Yes, would you like that?”

 

Harry was amazed. “Oh,yes! I... well, I  _ hoped  _ that could happen, but I didn’t think it would be possible.” Harry couldn’t contain his joy, smiling widely. All of his daydreams of Tom being by his side in the real world came to the front of his mind. 

 

“Why wouldn’t it be? Because I’m just memories?”

 

Harry nodded. “Yeah, I could only imagine what it would take to have you come out of the diary, but it didn’t seem like that could happen.”

 

“Perhaps not, if that were  _ all  _ I am.” Tom explained, “I am actually more than just memories. I am part of a soul.”

 

“A soul…?” That sounded important, like something you needed to live, “Did- did you die when you made this diary?” Harry asked, hesitantly.

 

“No, I’m not an entire soul. The other half of my soul is still… out there.”

 

“He is? Er, not that I’m not grateful to have met you, but why did you put your  _ soul _ in a book?”

 

“To ensure I live long enough to make a difference. You’ve seen how the Dark Arts are regarded and how anyone that practices them are treated. I want to change that. Making this diary meant that my other self was safe. Even if something happened, he would not die.”

 

“You mean he’s-  _ your other self  _ is immortal?” Harry asked, amazed. Sure, he’d learned of the Philosopher's stone last year, even protected it from Voldemort, but he hadn’t met the Flamels. So the fact that they had a means for immortality didn’t have the same impact as someone he knew personally having the same. If not a better way of doing it. After all, they kept needing the stone every so often to keep up their long life. Tom only needed to store a part of his soul away once without having to stay in contact with his other half.

 

“Yes,” Tom agreed, pleased with Harry’s reaction, “While it is not a perfect solution, as my body can still be destroyed, my soul will not pass on. Meaning, I can always come back.”

 

Still enthralled with how Tom’s immortality worked, Harry wondered aloud what that would be like, “Not that I want it to happen, but what would that be like?” His mind quickly brought up possibilities, “Would you be like a temporary ghost?”

 

As soon as he said it, he wondered why that felt like he had heard that before. Someone that wasn’t dead but didn’t have a body… that was like… that was-

 

“Harry?” Tom had noticed his sudden change in mood. “What are you thinking?”

 

_ Voldemort  _ was like that. His body had been destroyed, but Dumbledore had known that he would come back. He said that he wasn’t truly gone.

 

It couldn’t be what he thought. Tom  _ wasn’t- _

 

But now that the idea was there…

 

The unease was back, and worsening quickly. “Where are we?” He asked again, in a quieter voice than he intended.

 

Tom frowned, “There’s still more I want to talk about-”

 

“Where are we?” Harry cut him off, not willing to wait anymore.

 

“Harry.”

 

“Tom,  _ where are we?”  _

 

Tom stood without another word, and Harry stood, too, in alarm. His unease was growing faster now. Why couldn’t Tom just be clear on what was going on?

 

The Slytherin common room morphed into a large, dark, shadowy room. Harry looked around nervously taking in what he could in the dark. It appeared to be the dungeons, though no part he’d been in. By the looks of it, no one else had been here in a long time, either. The stone floor was wet and grimy looking. In front of him and behind Tom was a large figure of a man carved into the stone that Harry didn’t recognize.

 

He didn’t feel like turning away from Tom for long, feeling unsettled, but quickly looked to see if anything significant was behind him. There was a walkway that, hopefully, led to the exit of this chamber, flanked on both sides by towering stone serpents...

 

“Is this-?  _ Tom _ , are we-!” Harry spun back to the other boy in shock.

 

“The Chamber of Secrets, yes.” Tom confirmed with an amused grin that Harry normally liked, but at the moment it only increased his anxiety.

 

Harry wanted to take several steps back, but he felt rooted to the spot.

 

_ A place only the two of us can reach.  _ Tom had said. The Chamber could only be opened by parselmouths. 

 

“ _ That’s  _ why you’ve been so amused by me pretending to be the heir? Because it’s you?” 

 

Harry tried not to think about  _ who else _ was a known parselmouth and heir of Slytherin. Before Tom could get a word in, Harry continued, “Everyone was blaming me for the attacks, when it was  _ you. _ ” He accused, “And you told me to let them think that!”

 

Tom narrowed his eyes at him, losing his humor at the accusation, “You were the one that came up with that idea, do not forget that. I may have encouraged it, but you did that on your own.”

 

“I thought something was wrong when you said not to worry about the Heir…” 

 

Harry had been worried that the real Heir would say or do something, but it hadn’t mattered. Tom, the real Heir, didn’t care, nor could he do anything about it, ...right? Tom couldn’t do anything to Harry from in the diary… yet, he said he  _ brought  _ him here. Physically, not just in the diary.

 

“...you possessed me.” It came out like a question. The diary having been thrown away made sense now. Tom had been doing the same with the person before him. That was why there hadn’t been any attacks since before Harry found the diary. “How many times have you done that?”

 

“Just this time, Harry. I told you why. I have much to tell you, if you would only  _ listen  _ so I can explain _. _ ”

 

Harry  _ was  _ listening. All the things Tom had revealed tonight, Harry listened and pieced them together. The similarities… He didn’t want to think that Tom was… But, he couldn’t help but think.

 

Before he could lose his nerve, Harry blurted out, “Like how you’re Voldemort?”

 

Tom clenched his jaw, looking like he was trying to calm down. 

 

_ Deny it,  _ Harry thought,  _ Tell me I’m wrong.  _

 

“My other self became Voldemort, yes.”  

 

His heart sank. Oh, Merlin, Harry had thought he was friends with… with the monster who… “You killed my parents.”

 

“ _ No. _ ” Tom stepped forward, only to stop when Harry did as well, “My memories, everything contained in this diary are from the time I was a student.  _ I  _ didn’t do any of the things the main part of me did.”

 

“You tried to kill me last year!” 

 

“My  _ other self,  _ Harry.” Tom emphasized, “I want to protect you. I  _ have been protecting you!” _

 

The twelve-year-old couldn’t believe him, “I trusted you.” He said, angry at Tom and himself for ever listening to the other boy.

 

“And, I trust you, Harry. That’s why we’re having this conversation.” He was clearly agitated, but trying to keep his anger at bay. It did nothing to calm Harry’s own anger.

 

“No, we’re having this conversation because you want me to get you out of the diary!”

 

“I thought you wanted that, too.”

 

“I did until I realized  _ who  _ you were! Voldemort is insane! Why would I ever want to let you out of the diary now?”

 

“Because you need me.”

 

“I do  _ not!” _ Harry yelled and it echoed in the large chamber.

 

Tom scowled at Harry’s outburst, but didn’t raise his own voice. “I’ve protected you even from the diary, haven’t I?” 

 

“No, you’ve deceived me! How can I trust anything that you’ve said? All your advice on what to do. I never should have picked up your stupid diary!” Harry bit out. He tried to breath in through his nose only to notice it was stuffed and he’d started crying. When had that happened?

 

“You’re too worked up.” The older boy said, suddenly calm. “There’s no point talking to you like this if you are so obviously  _ not willing to think. _ ”

 

“So what now? What are you going to do with me?” Harry sniffled, afraid. Everytime he left the diary, it was under Tom’s control. He had no idea how to leave on his own, if that was even possible. Was Tom going to trap him here?

 

“Give you time to think.” 

 

Oh, Merlin, he was, wasn’t he? Tom wasn’t going to let him leave and he’d be stuck-

 

“I prepared for this, but I must say I am still disappointed in this outcome.” Harry flinched. He tried to convince himself it was Tom’s tone, not that he felt bad about letting him down. He didn’t  _ care _ anymore, he shouldn’t feel bad. “I am sure you can find your way out of the chamber without my help. When you are ready to think clearly and not let your emotions control you all you need to do to open the Chamber is speak the word ‘open’ in parseltongue.”

 

He didn’t want to breathe, desperately hoping that he wasn’t fooling with him, that Tom would really let him walk away.

 

“Think about what I have said, what you know to be true. Don’t take too long. I’ll be waiting.”

 

He didn’t get a chance to say anything before the world tilted and Harry fell from the diary with a grunt, landing harder than he’d been accustomed to. The floor was cold and wet. Irrationally, he hoped that when he opened his eyes he wasn’t where Tom said he’d  _ brought  _ him _. _ That none of that had been real.

 

Shakily he got to his feet and blinked his eyes open. It wasn’t his dorm in the dungeons, the last place he remembered walking to.

 

The real version of the Chamber of Secrets was before his eyes. Tom’s diary lay in a lone dry spot by his feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That last conversation did not go quite how I wanted, and it sure didn’t go how Tom wanted lol I wrote bits of that scene well before I got to this part and ended up being lost with how to bring it all together. This is a little shorter than I hoped. I had another part at the very end that I wrote a while back, but it didn’t fit the tone that was going? It just didn’t seem right, so it might start off the next one if I can tweak it to where I’m happy with it. 
> 
> Oh, I don’t think it was very clear, because it was in Draco’s POV, but Tom pushed Crabbe while he was under the invisibility cloak possessing Harry.


End file.
